


The Deception

by Stray_Lilly



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Blow Jobs, Burns, Deception, Hand Jobs, Human Trafficking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Spanking, Torture, Unhealthy Relationships, slight degradation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stray_Lilly/pseuds/Stray_Lilly
Summary: A group of assassins find themselves caught in a deadly feud between two brothers.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Kim Seungmin, Chan/???, Changbin/???, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Hyunjin/???, Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix, Lee Minho | Lee Know/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Minho/???
Comments: 15
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I hope you enjoy reading this 💕 but please pay attention to the tags first!  
> Regarding the tags - Some tags will be updated regularly (relationships + additional)  
> 💕💕💕

Seungmin greeted the concierge with a nod and a polite smile. He slung his navy blue suit jacket over his arm, his briefcase clasped firmly by the other hand, and stepped into the elevator. He peered at his reflection on the metal doors, brushing parted chocolate brown bangs away from his face. And even though there were no other occupants, he stuck to his routine and stepped out onto the fourteenth floor, locating the stairwell and doubling back to the twelfth floor.

Four apartments were spread along this floor and Seungmin stopped at the third, raising his fist to knock twice. The door opened before he could lower his hand.

“Sorry, we’re not interested,” the blue haired man said in manner of greeting, a grin plastered on his face despite himself. “Even if the salesman is good-looking.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes and pushed past Jisung. Typical of him to offer an insult and conpliment simultaneously. The door closed with a click behind him, and Jisung’s sneaker-clad feet plodded across the carpeted floor, rushing after Seungmin no doubt to whine about something.

“Why the fuck is Felix’s apartment always nicer?”

There it was.

“You haven’t even _seen_ yours yet,” Seungmin scoffed in reply. Actually, it could go either way when Jisung found out where he’d be staying. He’d either be on cloud nine or he’d throw a fit. There was never an in between with him.

Felix sat on the couch, dressed comfortably in slacks and an oversized t-shirt, his legs folded beneath him. His eyes flickered from the game on his phone to the animation playing on TV. A short attention span, but he focused when it mattered. 

He glanced at Seungmin when he entered, giving him a bright smile. “Want anything? Tea, coffee, soda?”

“You didn’t offer _me_ anything,” Jisung interjected, flopping down in an armchair and grabbing a green frosted donut from the half-empty box on the coffee table. 

“Because you always help yourself anyway,” Felix made a face as Jisung shoved half of the donut into his mouth. 

Seungmin perched on the armrest next to Felix and clicked his tongue. “Nice shoes, Sung,” he tried to smooth over the argument before it turned into something destructive, like it almost always did. “Haven’t seen those before.”

Jisung smirked, distracted. “Limited editions,” he swung his legs back and forth childishly, showing off the colourful shoes. 

Seungmin checked his watch. Two minutes. Unless Jeongin fucked up… again. 

“He’ll be here,” Felix said softly, placing a hand on his thigh. Seungmin locked eyes with him, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile. Felix’s hand lingered, his fingers leaving a trail of heat on Seungmin’s thigh as he rubbed a slow circle before withdrawing.

Four minutes later (why couldn’t he ever be on time?) Jeongin turned up, a pizza box in his hand, and a half eaten slice in his mouth. His sweaty fuchsia coloured hair was plastered to his forehead and his hoodie was half-zipped like he’d lost the commitment to fully zip it before he hopped onto the train. “I told them not to put any onion on and guess what? They put a ton of fucking onion on it. So I had to wait for them to change it and –”

“Just come in,” Seungmin sighed. “It’s fine.” But it wasn’t and he couldn’t keep letting Jeongin off. Time was important in their line of work. Granted, Jeongin had only been with them for seven months – he was the last person to join – but he needed to learn. Seungmin would speak with him soon. 

When they were all seated, Seungmin opened his briefcase and retrieved the set of folders, handing each to their owner.

He cleared his throat and began to explain. “A month ago, I was approached by this man,” he lifted the photo,”Seo Changbin.” He paused, long enough for them to locate the photo in their own folders. “Have you all heard of the Hwang Empire?”

“They own almost everything here in Oslo,” Jeongin shrugged, staring at the page he’d pulled up at lightning speed on google. “Fashion retailers, restaurants, hotels, factories.”

“Rich motherfuckers,” Jisung clarified, glancing over Jeongin’s shoulder.

From beside Seungmin, Felix gave a hum of agreement, encouraging him to continue.

“Seo Changbin is the right-hand man to one of the heirs of the Hwang Empire. He heard of our services from one of our previous clients.”

* * *

They’d met at a busy seaside cafe, the smell of coffee and warm pastries blending with the salty scent of the sea. Just the perfect amount of cloud-cover blocking the sun and the view of waves crashing onto the rocks, made his seat at a table outside the cafe one of the more pleasant ones. Several families were gathered along the shoreline, soaking their feet in the sea foam, children mucking about in the sand, filling the air with delighted squeals and dizzy laughter. 

Seo Changbin, seated opposite Seungmin, did not fit into this picture. If this was a photograph sitting on someone’s mantel, Changbin would have looked like he’d been photoshopped into it. Seungmin had to press his lips together to keep his laughter at bay.

There were two kinds of people – people who were different but did their very best to blend into a foreign situation, and people who were different and made it a point to make sure everyone knew it. Seungmin belonged to the former, while Changbin belonged to the latter.

The muscular man was dressed in a short-sleeved fitted white shirt, his biceps bulging against the material, a tribal tattoo trailing down to his elbow. He had a permanent frown etched onto his face and seemed to enjoy cracking his knuckles every time someone looked in his direction. As amusing as it was, Seungmin couldn’t fault him for this. Looking scary and intimidating was a part of his job, as much as effortlessly blending into the background was a part of Seungmin’s.

Seungmin was used to meeting with subordinates. His clients were often too fearful to do the initial meeting themselves and often sent disposables in their stead. “Tell me about Hwang Hyunjin and what he wants from me.” He kept his face impassive, his tone calm and steady, not too demanding, but not too docile.

Changbin nodded, taking a deep breath. “The thing is, Mr Hwang is less than happy with being left with only half the shares of his father’s company.”

It was Changbin’s first full sentence since they’d met a whole fifteen minutes ago. He didn’t seem to be much of a talker. Unless he was shy. Seungmin would find out soon enough.

“And who does the other half belong to?”

“Chan, his stepbrother.”

Interesting. Siblings. It wasn’t the first time Seungmin had been asked to off a sibling over money, but Hwang Industries… They’d always kept up the appearance of a tight-knit happy family.

"Hyunjin's father," Changbin began to explain, "remarried after the uh…" he grimaced to show his displeasure, "the death of his first wife. Chan and Hyunjin never saw eye to eye. They're very… different from each other."

Seungmin hummed, wrapping his hands around his mug of coffee. “When we spoke on the phone you mentioned that there was a complication?” 

The burly man huffed out a sigh, clenching his hands into fists. “If there wasn’t, I’d be able to take care of the problem _myself_.”

Oh, this was very interesting. Was Changbin insinuating that he would kill for his boss? Seungmin made a mental note of this.

“Here’s a copy of the late Mr Hwang’s will. Look at 72b and 73a.”

Seungmin scanned the copy, finding the highlighted section.

_72b. Shares are to be split equally between my sons, on the condition that:_

  1. _Both sons are to reside at the Hwang mansion_
  2. _Both sons must be actively involved in the running of Hwang Industries_



_73a. Should one or both sons meet their untimely death:_

  1. _All shares must be dissolved and Hwang Industries must be shut down immediately_
  2. _Any and all profit made by Hwang Industries must go to charity_



Seungmin let out a low whistle. “I see the complication.” If they got rid of Chan, it would be futile. Hyunjin would lose everything. “But what can I do about this?” Seungmin’s team got rid of nuisances for a living. This was beyond them.

“You read 72b,” Changbin leaned forward. “You’ll be getting rid of him, but first, we need you to make him give up his shares. He moves out of the mansion, he loses his shares, you take him far away, and then you off him. You see?”

“But there’s a little flaw in your plan,” Seungmin arched a brow. “How do you expect _me_ to convince him to give up his shares?”

“Oh,” the dark haired man let out a humourless chuckle, “people do crazy things for love, don’t they?”

Seungmin’s lips quirked into a half-smile, “You want me to seduce Chan.” 

“You’ve done it before,” Changbin tilted his head, giving Seungmin a knowing look. “You convinced Lady Yubin to transfer her entire property into your name in under a month before she drowned. And there was the matter of those diamonds that the Mayor’s nephew left you before he was killed in that _unfortunate_ car crash. You can take as long as you want with Chan. Mr Hwang is willing to patiently wait.”

Yes, well, Seungmin and his team were quite skilled at what they did. But still, this would be too complex and would require more planning than anything else they’d ever done. He glanced at the figure Changbin had scrawled on another piece of paper and his eyes widened. Perhaps, he could do it. But would the others agree?

* * *

“It’s way too risky,” Jisung was the first to disagree. “We’ve never done anything as big as Hwang Industries. This Chan guy’s security’s gonna be top notch. We can’t do it.”

“Wait,” Jeongin silenced him with an annoyed look. “How many zeroes are we looking at?”

Seungmin smiled. He could always rely on Jeongin to focus in on the most important point. “Seven.”

Silence. Everyone stared at him, their jaws hanging open.

“Seven is…” Felix spoke at last. “That’s… That’s more than we’ve ever been offered. Come on,” he stared at Jisung. “You’ll really give that up?”

“You could buy that yacht you always wanted,” Jeongin said, his voice taking on that persuasive tone that made him so desirable. "You'd be able to live comfortably for a long time with this kind of money."

“Alright, I’m in,” Jisung announced, clapping his hands together. “When do we start?”

Seungmin snorted out a laugh. “If everyone is in, open your folders.” He glanced at Felix who held his gaze for a few seconds before nodding and opening his folder. “Innie, let’s start with you.”

Jeongin held up the photograph of the handsome man. “Who’s he? Do I get to fuck him?”

“Maybe,” Seungmin shrugged. “Hopefully. He’s our target’s best friend, Lee Minho. Nosey as fuck, and over-protective. Keep him out of the way, monitor him and make sure he doesn’t get wind of what we’re up to.”

Jeongin looked more than satisfied with this job. “Will do,” he said with a wink and a mock salute. 

“Sung,” Seungmin gave him an apologetic look. “You’ve got the client.”

“Fuck you,” Jisung spat, reading the details on his sheet. “I’m not staying at that mansion.”

Seungmin _did_ say this could go either way.

“Think about it,” he urged Jisung. “We need someone to keep an eye on Hyunjin. I don’t trust him. And I don’t trust Changbin either. With you there we have eyes on both of them. You’re good at what you do, Sung. Just make Hyunjin believe you're there as the middleman between me and him. And keep an eye out for trouble.” He wasn’t just throwing baseless compliments at him; Jisung had been with him the longest and Seungmin knew what he was capable of.

“You mean I’m the least likely to get my throat cut open while I’m asleep.”

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah, when you put it that way.”

Jisung stared at Hyunjin’s photograph. “So I’m just gonna move in there and… And what? Won't people find it suspicious that I'm moving in all of a sudden?”

“Well, um,” Seungmin outwardly cringed at the bomb he was going to drop. “You wouldn’t be the only guy Hyunjin has brought home after a night out and you won’t be the only one sharing his bed. He… likes having people at hand to satisfy him whenever he needs it.”

“Oh fuck you, Seungmin!” Jisung’s jaw hung open in disbelief. “I’m not going to be one of his personal fucktoys.”

“Just until Chan is wrapped around my finger,” Seungmin replied calmly. "It shouldn't take too long."

“Hyunjin is kind of hot,” Jeongin said staring at the photo in Jisung’s hand. “I wouldn’t mind being his personal fucktoy.”

Jisung gestured with both hands to Jeongin. “There!” he glared at Seungmin. “Why can’t we swap?”

“Jeongin is too inexperienced,” Seungmin reminded him. Across from him, Jeongin murmured an argument too soft to properly hear. He could deny it all he wanted, they all knew that Jeongin had made one too many mistakes, either because of his over-eagerness or lack of eagerness.

“Great,” Jisung scowled, but Seungmin knew he wouldn’t back out – not when he was in for a seven-figure reward at the end of it. “So is this why you made me dye my hair _blue_? Does the rich dude like pretty boys with blue hair?”

Seungmin smirked. He’d been surprised this wasn’t the first issue Jisung raised – he was one of those who hated high maintenance hair. Seungmin could relate. “Hyunjin does go for the strange, edgy ones, I heard. I mean, he knows you’re working with me, but if he suddenly took home someone that wasn’t his type, people would be a bit suspicious.”

Looking less than pleased, but unwilling to argue, Jisung’s gaze moved to Felix who looked pointedly at the TV, well aware that Jisung had zoned in on the obvious. “So Felix is our point of contact again.”

Seungmin braced himself. “Felix is still recovering –”

“That’s bullshit,” Jisung’s eyes flashed with anger. “It happened eight months ago. He’s fine.”

After things went wrong and Felix got hurt, Seungmin had been reluctant to hand him any role that could lead to him getting hurt again. Usually, the role of liaison was alternated between them, but for the past seven months it had gone to Felix. Anything to keep him safe. That was the reason Seungmin had taken the college dropout into their team, and despite his clumsiness, Jeongin did have his uses. 

This would be the last time the whole group met together until they accomplished their task. Until then, Felix would be their liaison. If anyone needed to relay any information, it would go through to Felix first.

He ignored Jisung’s comment and cleared his throat. “The job starts tonight. There’s a party celebrating the anniversary of one of the Hwang hotels. We’re on the guest list.”

With the details discussed and repeated until they were drilled in, Seungmin was satisfied to see the backs of Jisung and Jeongin as they left. He’d mumbled some excuse about needing to go over a few things with Felix alone, not missing the annoyed look Jisung had shot him before he slammed the door shut.

Only a minute after the door shut, Felix had straddled Seungmin in his armchair, his thighs locking Seungmin in place.

“Hi,” Seungmin murmured against his lips, his fingers carding through Felix’s blonde layers.

“Missed you,” Felix responded, his hands around Seungmin’s neck, lips forming a pout.

Strong fingers trailed against Felix’s sharp jaw before they wrapped around the side of his neck. He pressed his thumb against the underside of Felix’s chin, keeping his head tilted back as he clashed their lips together in a searing kiss. A sharp nip at his lower lip made Felix gasp.

Sliding his free hand down, Seungmin grabbed Felix’s cock through his sweats and gave it a squeeze. “So hard, already?”

A soft breath carried the blonde’s moan as his lashes fluttered. “Since the moment you walked in.”

Seungmin’s lips curved into a satisfied smile at this. He knew Felix had a weakness for him in a well fitted suit, and had hoped it would have this effect. His hand slid up, fingers tracing the waistband of Felix’s pants as he nibbled at his lips and then slipped his tongue back into the blonde’s mouth.

Felix’s skin burned against Seungmin’s fingers, nails dragging across his flesh. A visible shudder went through him, his almond eyes closing as he let out a shaky breath. “We need to talk,” Felix murmured, but Seungmin doubted either of them were capable of carrying out a decent conversation right then. He slid his hands beneath Felix’s t-shirt, running along the circumference of his petite waist, along his back. 

“I thought we discussed everything last night,” Seungmin whispered against his lips, pulling back to watch Felix lift his t-shirt over his head and discard it onto the floor. His hands slid around Felix’s hips again, giving his ass a firm squeeze as he forced their bodies together. He always discussed things with Felix before he did with Jisung and Jeongin. It’s just how it was.

“We did.” There was a tremor in Felix’s voice, cutting through the air as their lips separated. “And you said you’d tell them soon.”

Seungmin flicked his tongue over a taut nipple, causing Felix to cry out and arch backwards. “Soon. Not today.”

“They need to know, Min.” Felix’s body was trembling now. 

“Jisung already knows about us,” Seungmin huffed, resting his head against the back of the armchair. “He just won’t confront us about it.”

“Because he’s waiting for you to tell him,” Felix insisted, grinding his crotch down against Seungmin’s and eliciting a moan from the taller male. “It’s been over a year. Yeah, he probably knows. We make it obvious, But it still feels like we’re sneaking around and I hate that.”

“Soon.” Seungmin hoped his clipped tone would end the conversation. And if that didn’t, he latched onto one of Felix’s nipples, tugging it between his teeth, and at the same time he slipped his hand into Felix’s underwear.

“Seungmin!” Felix gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

He was rock hard, his skin burning hot. Seungmin wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving him one tight stroke before he lowered his voice and pressed his lips against his ear. “How bad do you want it, baby?”

“Fuck.” The profane word escaped from between those delicious lips. “So _so_ bad, Min.”

God, he was gorgeous. His cock filled Seungmin’s hand pleasantly, not quite as girthy as his own, and a little shorter but always perfect for him. 

Felix’s freckled cheeks were decorated with pink blossoms, slowly deepening to a vivid red, and his hips arched, pressing towards Seungmin’s hand.

Seungmin encircled his shaft with his hand and then began to jerk him quickly, feeling the rough drag of underwear against his knuckles. His cock was leaking over Seungmin’s hand, the slickness between his fingers making it even easier to glide over his shaft.

Felix kept his arms entwined around Seungmin’s neck, rocking his hips forward and pressing into each stroke. There was a desperation in the unsteady rhythm of his movements and he panted heavily, as if he hadn’t just been fucked less than twelve hours ago.

He could feel the smaller man’s chest move rapidly against his. That pulse pounded against his fingertips, proof of how badly he wanted this. His eyes were lidded, cloudy, and his lips were parted, soft whines escaping from them.

“You’re so perfect,” Seungmin told Felix as he dragged his lips over his ear. His hand continued to stroke in a steady and fast rhythm. “It always makes me want to ruin you.”

“Oh god, please.” Felix’s words came out in a desperate whimper. His fingers clawed at Seungmin’s clothed chest, his hips jerking. “Fuck, please. I need it. Want it. Please. Fuck.” Even his pleas were beautiful, sending shivers along Seungmin’s spine. When Seungmin picked up the movements of his hand, Felix’s eyes shot open, releasing a quiet cry from his lips. He could feel the other’s cock swelling in his hand, and that’s when he let go.

Felix groaned, slumping back against Seungmin’s chest and softly slapping his shoulder. “I hate you,” he mumbled, eyes dropping shut.

“Liar.” Seungmin chuckled and let his hand slide up Felix’s shaft, catching his precum onto his fingertips. They shimmered in the sunlight streaming in through the window as he held them up to Felix’s face. 

Slowly, he dragged one of his fingers over the other’s lips, the slickness glossing over the lower one as it trembled. His thumb dug into the underside of Felix’s chin as he kept his head tilted back, forcing two of his dirty fingers between his lips. He rubbed them over Felix’s tongue, humming his approval as the blonde latched onto them. “There you go.” Seungmin’s lips parted as he watched Felix lap off his own precum. “Bedroom,” he whispered when he could take no more. 

Seungmin followed the sway of Felix’s hips into the bedroom, and he ran his tongue over his lips. When Felix discarded his sweatpants and underwear at the bedroom door, it took all of Seungmin’s efforts not to pounce on him and devour him right then and there. But he wanted to take things slower today. Who knew when they’d get this opportunity again? Once the game began, he’d scarcely be able to see Felix, let alone touch him.

As he started to unbutton his shirt, Seungmin kept his eyes fixed on Felix, watching every move he made. Small hands dropped onto the snow-white blankets, pressing down as he bent over. His back curved faintly, jutting his ass out. He dipped his head down, waiting for Seungmin.

Fuck. Seungmin needed to be inside him. He moved forward, shirt fluttering around his bare chest. His burning gaze zeroed in on Felix’s ass, focused on that pale skin. He lifted one strong hand, landing it smack against the side of that perfect ass. The sound was loud, cutting through the silence. Bright red spread out against the milky flesh, filling in the shape of Seungmin’s large hand.

“Oh!” A gasp broke free from Felix’s mouth and his knees locked. Fingers tore at the blankets, his arms trembling as he supported himself. He whimpered pathetically, head hanging between his outstretched arms as he squirmed. 

“Do you like that?” Seungmin didn’t need to ask but he did anyway. He knew Felix loved this, had been waiting for it. He advanced and grabbed a fistful of blonde hair. He pulled Felix’s head back, pressing his lips to his ear. “My naughty Lix. I love you.” Seungmin’s teeth caught at the earlobe, tugging harshly.

“I love you too,” Felix whimpered, yelping as Seungmin’s hand landed firmly against his ass once more. His hips jerked, turning into a more severe arch as another red mark bloomed. Seungmin could have come just from the sight.

A bead of precum dripped downwards from the swollen tip of Felix’s flushed cock. The head was so red that it looked like all it would take was one touch to have his come squirt all over the spotless sheets.

Seungmin grasped Felix’s hips, pulling him into place, sealing himself against him. He ground his clothed cock against that flushed ass. 

Felix moved his head back. “You still have your clothes on?” His laugh was breathy. “A little too slow today, Min.”

Seungmin couldn’t help but suppress his chuckle with a hard bite against Felix’s shoulder. He cupped Felix’s ass before shoving him further onto the bed.

Felix slid onto his stomach, trapping his erection between his skin and the sheets. He curled his arms under one of the pillows and buried his face into it.

Seungmin stalked around the bed, his eyes never breaking their line of sight, burning into Felix’s body as he stepped towards the nightstand. Pulling it open, he grabbed a condom as well as a bottle of lubricant, both purchased just the day before, and tossed them onto the bed. Seungmin shrugged off his shirt next, the fabric grazing across his knuckles before it fell to the floor. He caught sight of deep brown eyes, peeking out from the pillow as Felix turned his head faintly. He could feel Felix’s gaze trail over his body. Seungmin wasn’t as ripped as Felix, but still, every time the blonde looked at him he felt like a god. 

Seungmin tugged his zipper down before hooking his fingers into the waistband. It was a relief to get his pants off, to free his straining cock. Thick veins bulged across the shaft, pulsing with his racing heartbeat. The foreskin was forced back by its stiffness, his flared tip exposed, glazed with precum.

He exhaled sharply, desperately trying to get a handle on the hot and throbbing feeling in his gut. He wished he could have this every day, and he would soon. This client was the last. This information too, he’d kept from Jisung and Jeongin for the sake of maintaining peace.

When he entered the bed, placing his legs astride Felix’s thighs, it dipped beneath his weight. Seungmin’s strong hands grabbed at Felix’s ass, squeezing the cheeks before spreading them apart. He eyed that delectable looking pucker, rubbing his thumb over it and watching as it clenched. 

Felix whimpered, hiding his face back in the pillow. Seungmin gave his ass a light whack before grabbing the bottle of lubricant from next to him. He coated three of his fingers before leaning close.

It was hard having to take his time. Seungmin needed to be in him, now, right now. His body was aching for it, his cock desperate to be buried in that lovely ass. Yet at the same time, he wanted to savor the moment, wanted to feel every bit of him, wanted Felix to feel every bit of him.

Hovering over Felix, he slid his index finger between those red cheeks, covering his pucker with a sheen of lubricant before he began to caress it in a circular motion. Gradually, he applied more and more pressure until the tip of his finger breached in. Felix took him in easily, his hot walls clenching around him while slender hips rolled against the bed.

“More,” Felix whined. He pressed his mouth against the pillow, muffling his gasps and moans while he arched his back and buckled his ass against the intrusion. 

Seungmin chewed on the inside of his cheeks, feeling frustrated in the most addictive way as he pulled back just enough to work his second finger in.

Felix’s flushed cheeks pressed against the pillowcase as Seungmin worked his second digit in and began to finger him at an ever-growing pace. With each stroke, he curled his fingers up, intent on making the other go out of his mind.

Finally, the pads of his fingers bumped against his prostate, eliciting an instant reaction from the boy beneath him. Felix cried out, his whole body jolting forward as though he’d never felt this kind of pleasure before, even though Seungmin had done this exact thing countless times. “Oh fuck!” His hands slid out from under the pillow, nails scraping across the covers. “Seungmin, _more_.”

Seungmin shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. So fucking demanding. He pulled out his fingers far enough to slip in a third. They delved in deep to graze across Felix’s prostate. Although Felix pressed his face into the pillow, his stifled moans kept dominating the silence in the room. It was too fucking much. Seungmin couldn’t take it any longer.

Pulling his slick fingers out, he grabbed the condom and fumbled to get it open. Felix always made him feel like a teenager, ready to fuck for the first time, nervous, impatient. Seungmin gave out a frustrated grunt as the slippery pack kept gliding from his fingertips and eventually settled for ripping it open with his teeth. Fuck, finally! His heart pounded, the beat banging in his head as he spat out the little plastic edge and then exhaled shakily. With a sudden surge of agitation, he positioned the condom on his thick tip and rolled the latex down over his pulsing shaft, gripping the base tightly to make sure it wasn’t shifting up.

“Turn around, baby. Let me look at you.”

Felix flopped over onto his back, a bead of sweat already running down his temple. He lifted his head slightly off the pillow, and Seungmin knew at once what he wanted. He indulged the blonde and their lips connected for a slow, soft kiss.

He lifted Felix’s legs over his shoulders, his swollen cock rubbing along the well-lubed cleft of his ass, feeling the heat of his skin through the latex. “Ready for me, Lix?”

Felix nodded, but when he heard the click of the bottle again, a shudder ran through his body, his cleft brushing against the head of Seungmin’s cock. With a click, more lubricant squirted onto Seungmin’s palm. It glistened, clinging to his fingers, sliding between them as he wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked. Just a few times. Just enough to coat his shaft thoroughly before he tossed the bottle aside and guided his swollen tip right against Felix’s entrance. 

Seungmin moved slow. Steadying his cock with one hand, he kept the other on Felix’s thigh as he added pressure to the quivering pucker. Seungmin glanced down between them, his hand squeezing the base of his shaft as he shoved himself forward and then in went the tip of his cock. White hot heat embraced him as Felix whimpered and gasped. Seungmin shifted, greedily taking in the sight of his thick shaft stretching that pucker as he gave Felix a moment to adjust to his girth.

Only when Felix gave a strangled moan and attempted to meet each thrust did he begin to push onwards. It was rare that he went so slow, that he was so restrained. Usually, he liked to fuck like a wild animal. To pound Felix into the bed just the way he liked it, at an almost manic pace so he would pant and curse and whine. But today was different.

Arching his hips, he sunk into Felix, the prolonged drag of sweet pressure around his shaft making his toes curl while waves of heat crept up his chest and throat. Felix writhed and moaned, spreading his thighs on either side of Seungmin, taking him in deeper.

With his fingers curling up in the sheets beside him, Seungmin snapped his hips forward, bottoming out in one hard slide. 

“Ah Seungmin, yes!” Felix’s body arched, another high-pitched cry leaving his lips. “Oh fuck!”

With another slow drag, Seungmin pulled himself halfway out and then jammed back in, filling Felix up to the hilt again. He repeated the motion several times until Felix was pressing himself back into each of his thrusts. Every moan that he drew from Felix’s lips was encouragement to go harder. The mattress was squeaking beneath them while the headboard banged against the wall and coupled together with their moans it created a beautiful symphony.

Blood thrummed through Seungmin’s ears, accompanying the heavy thudding sound of his heart. His brown hair fell over his eyes, sticking to his forehead as his thrusts became slower and harder. More deliberate. Each firm snap of his hips punctuated with him grinding in deep. Seungmin’s big palms captured Felix’s small hands into them. He could feel pleasure twisting in his stomach, a deep warmth spreading through him as he kept driving in, hitting Felix’s prostate again and again.

“Fuck!” He swore and then grunted, their bodies colliding in a rapid rhythm. Merciless, Seungmin drilled into him until Felix’s eyes rolled back and his hips bucked continuously. His lips were parted, but the only sound that left him was a pathetic, mewling sort of whimper. Felix was completely gone. He squeezed his eyes shut until tears sprung out from under his eyelashes.

Seungmin leaned down, catching a salty tear with the tip of his tongue. And then it happened.

Without warning, Felix’s body tensed and tightened. He twitched and trembled. Spasms squeezed around Seungmin’s cock, strangling it.

“Seungmin!” Felix yelped out, his nails digging into Seungmin’s palms. Seungmin rammed in deep, forcing his balls right against his ass until his quivering hole gripped the wide base of the shaft, tearing him open. He did it again. Felix cried out. Deep red cheeks, lips parted, breath labored and fast. 

Felix had come without being touched. Tremors ripped through his body, pulsing around Seungmin as ropes of white painted his stomach.

Seeing Felix’s fucked out state, Seungmin couldn’t fight his orgasm any longer. It had been lingering at the base of his spine all this time, threatening to burst forward. But now, he couldn’t stop it. His thrusts became manic. Stars shot past his vision. The tension and heat was almost unbearable until finally, Seungmin jerked his head back, and a wave of pleasure crashed over him.

He came with a shout, his balls tightening, surging up to hug the root of his shaft as his cock swelled between Felix's battered cheeks. All of his muscles went taut. Blood buzzing in his veins. Eyes clamping shut.

A couple of rough pants left his lips, his chest heaving with each inhale. His muscles gave in, and he dropped down onto Felix, their bodies clashing together. Seungmin shuddered against him as a last spurt of cum spilled into the condom.

Felix gasped out, wrapping his arms around Seungmin, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Promise me, this is the last client.”

“It’s the last,” Seungmin murmured. “I promise. 


	2. Chapter 2

Seungmin could go and fuck himself for all Jisung cared. No, wait – he had Felix to do that for him. He thought he was so fucking smart, that neither of them would notice the way the two looked at each other, the touches that lingered, the way they naturally drifted toward each other. But maybe the most obvious thing was the way Seungmin openly favored Felix. 

Fine, Jisung’s apartment was pretty fancy considering he’d only be using it for one night. But that wasn’t the point. Felix always had the nicer things, the finer things, and since he fucked up on the job and got hurt, he got the easier jobs too. 

No, wait – fine – liaison wasn’t easy, but there was less chance of getting killed or sent to prison when you’re sitting in the comfort of a luxurious apartment scrolling through your phone all day. See? Jisung wasn’t jealous. He just hated favoritism. 

“Fuck, I look good.” He stared at his reflection in the mirror, angling his face to the side. Seungmin had left a few outfits hanging in the closet and Jisung had chosen what looked like the most expensive. 

It was a pinstripe suit with a black cravat and navy shirt that enhanced his grey contact lenses. He rearranged the cravat and fiddled with the boutonniere, touching a finger to the dangling earring that ended in a jeweled teardrop. He was still unhappy with the blue hair, but he trusted Seungmin in that regard. If Seungmin said the blue hair would keep him in character, it probably would.

The fucking makeup though. Did he really have to do this shit every day now? It took him at least an hour to properly line his eyes. He dabbed a finger against a smudged spot, and shrugged. He still looked hot.

He gave the apartment one last glance, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it again because if he had to, it would mean that they were unsuccessful. And Jisung hated failure. 

Jeongin stepped out of the cab, receiving a speculative look from the nearby car attendants. It was probably a rare sight for someone to show up to a party like this in a cab. He could’ve pulled up in a fancy car if he wanted to, but the cab was all a part of his character. He stepped into the hotel lobby and handed the gloved woman his invitation card. He kept his expression impassive until the woman cast him a speculative glance; he flashed her a grin and she ushered him into the elevator.

Along with a few more guests, he was taken to the roof and thrust into the thrum of the party. He tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, clenching his jaw nervously.

He hadn’t been doing this as long as the others. Yeah, he had a talent – he could con people into signing their lives to him. But he messed up more than he succeeded. And this was a big job, the biggest they’ve ever had. 

He heard the music before the elevator doors slid open, the bass thumping and making the food laden tables dangerously shake. The lights lit up the night’s sky with pink and green and yellow. 

Jeongin scanned the crowd. The pool was filled with young men and women, most with colorful drinks in their hands, some in groups, others engaged in heavy makeout sessions, uncaring that cameras were flashing in their direction. Jeongin’s eyes lingered on the mess of lips and tongues and hands tangling through wet hair and limbs clinging to each other. 

Tearing his eyes away, he began to search. _Where was Lee Minho?_

He grabbed a glass of something – rum, he figured – and began to weave himself between dancing bodies. Jeongin was never good at acting. When he was eight, his parents thought he might make it big in the industry because, you know, good looks and all that. They were wrong. He sucked at it.

But he learned, over the past few months especially, that there were other ways to manipulate and deceive and take from others what he wanted. He sipped slowly on his drink, his palate cleaving to the sweet, toasty taste. It was going to take a bit more than this for him to get just the right amount of drunk. Because that was the only way to make this work.

Lee Minho was one of the morally upright few in this game. He didn’t come from money like the rest of them, and he’d probably die without any too. He was writer, Jeongin learned. He’d published a thing or two but none of his books received any attention. 

He was a giver – a fixer. He’d dated sparingly. His relationships only lasted as long as his partner needed fixing. Jeongin could work with that. 

Well, he was _somewhat_ sure that he could.

He couldn’t _act_ like a drunk out of his mind kid who was looking for a quick fuck and easy money. But he could _be_ that kid. He certainly looked the part. His plain black suit was cheap and worn. And he’d whorishly left too many buttons open on the front of his shirt, exposing more than need be.

In a lounge area, surrounded by men and women, he located their client – Hwang Hyunjin. Beside him, he recognized the bulky man, Seo Changbin. But two other players were missing. Where were they?

 _Oh_. The dimpled male unfortunate enough to be their target was chatting up a storm with the bartender. He threw his head back, laughing at something the bartender said. Jeongin gave a quick shake of the head. Not where his attention should be. 

But right beside Bang Chan, was the one Jeongin needed. He skulked to the side of the bar, a drink neglected in his hand. A few people were trying to make conversation with him but he was… standoffish. His smile was fake, and he did the bare minimum to hide his disinterest. Still, people fell over themselves trying to draw his interest. 

Because he was pretty. Very pretty. More than his photos.

Jeongin huffed out a sigh. Could be a challenge but he was up for it. He downed a few more shots of rich people alcohol and let himself be pulled onto the dance floor, just in Minho’s line of sight. 

He found himself sandwiched between a young woman and man. He threw his hands up, swaying to the beat of the music – something with a bit of an RnB beat. He let both of his dance partners have free access to his body, their hands roaming wherever they pleased. And when he brought his hands down to wrap around the man’s waist, it was all too easy to nick his wallet. His lips curved into a satisfied smile as he excused himself from their company. He flipped through the contents of the wallet, pocketing the cash before discarding everything else onto a nearby table.

He already had eyes on the next target. Her hair flew around her as she danced drunkenly, and smiled in delight when she found Jeongin pressed against her. Around her neck was an expensive pearl necklace and Jeongin knew real pearls when he saw them. He slid his hands over her hips, traveling downwards until they brushed the hem of her short dress.

He leaned down to latch his lips onto her neck, briefly making eye contact with Jisung who’d probably just arrived. Jisung would have it easy tonight. Hyunjin already knew who he was and all they both had to do was pretend to be into each other. 

Seungmin was nowhere in sight yet. Jeongin wondered how he planned to assimilate himself into Chan’s life. Seungmin never shared more detail than was necessary. He told them enough and, well, it was enough. Jeongin never needed to know more. Whatever it was Seungmin was planning, it would work out. It always did.

He carded a hand through the woman’s long red hair, tugging her head back and sucking on a spot just above her collarbone. At the same time, he used his free hand to undo the clasp of her necklace. He pocketed the pearls and spent a few more seconds with her before finding a few more gullible people, making sure to conduct his show under the watchful eyes of Lee Minho. 

Jisung watched Jeongin from the corner of his eye and tried not to gawk at the spectacle. He knew not to interfere even as he threw himself at one person and then the next. Someone had their hands up his untucked shirt, and then another shoved their fingers into his mouth. And of course Jeongin sucked like his life depended on it. The kid thrived on this kind of thing, even though he deserved better. Jisung’s mouth turned down in disapproval but he knew that Jeongin was only doing his job. He just felt strangely protective of the guy… For some fucking reason.

He forced his eyes away from the drunken man and found his destination. Hwang Hyunjin was seated on a V-shaped couch, up on a dais like he was some kind of king. Two men were draped over him like accessories.

Hwang looked like something out of a music video. But not a cheap one. His suit alone proved that. The white tux had a silky silvery lapel, and the crimson shirt he wore inside was cut into a deep V exposing most of his chest and then some.

He lazed back, one hand on the back of the couch, the other absentmindedly traveling down the spine of one of his toys. The said toy had a hand on Hwang’s crotch, but the billionaire didn’t seem to notice or care.

Fuck this. Fuck Seungmin for making him do this. 

Jisung grabbed a drink to strengthen his nerve and strode over to the lounge area, stopping just below the dais. Seungmin had already taken care to inform Hwang and his subordinate Changbin – who stood complacently off to the side – who Jisung was. So when Hwang’s security team tensed and started towards him, all Changbin did was flex a finger for them to withdraw back into their shadows. 

Jisung proceeded to climb the short set of stairs until he stood in front of Hwang. The man simply ignored Jisung’s presence, looking pointedly past him. Jisung looked at the two men on his lap and clicked his fingers to get their attention. “Get out.” The men, along with Hwang, stared at Jisung like he’d materialized out of thin air. “I said get the fuck out. Now.” He kept his voice low so that only those on the dais could hear. 

Hwang whispered something to the two who abruptly slid off their seat of power – about fucking time – and made a beeline for the bar. 

“Would you like to take a seat?” The blonde billionaire gestured to his lap, his tongue tracing his lower lip, drawing Jisung’s attention to its plushness. Fuck. If there was one thing Jisung hated more than rich men, it was rich and handsome men. And if there was one thing he hated more than rich and handsome men, it was rich, handsome and arrogant men. “You and your friends _do_ want this job don’t you?”

Fucking asshole. Jisung wanted to punch his teeth out. He took a quick glance around, noting that several curious eyes were already trained on him. 

“Come _on_ ,” Hwang egged him on, his tone patronizing, as if Jisung was a child. “Show everyone why I should take you home with me.”

Jisung felt trapped. He’d never wanted to break a client’s jaw so badly before. He consoled himself with the thought that he could when the job was done, even if meant his pay would be docked. “Listen,” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, “I’m not going to parade myself like one of your whores. You want to make my job difficult? Find someone else. Why don’t _you_ get your rich ass of that couch and show everyone why I should go home with you tonight? Because honestly? If you weren’t a client, and this was just any other night, I wouldn’t give two fucks about you.”

He lingered long enough to see the blonde’s eyes flash with anger, his mouth twisted into a frown, and then he turned on his heel, heading for the bar. He needed something strong. 

“You look like you need this.” The voice was close to his ear, the slim body leaning against the counter, between Jisung and a few other drink-seekers. 

Jisung didn’t bat an eyelid as a glass of amber liquid was slid his way. “Thanks,” he murmured to whoever his patron was, uncaring that his gratitude was drowned out by the thumping music. 

“It’s strange. You look like his type yet you don’t _seem_ like his type. You know?”

Jisung turned his head now, curious. And fuck. He wondered how to extract himself from this situation. He raised the glass of whiskey and hopped off the barstool. “Thanks again,” he said louder this time.

“But then again, Hyunjin can’t seem to take his eyes off you,” Lee Minho ignored Jisung’s thanks, peering at him from beneath long lashes. “I’ve never seen you around at any of his parties. You must be new?”

Jisung tried to hold off on the scowl. He was tired of these motherfuckers already. Didn’t help that they were all achingly beautiful. On the dance floor, Jeongin was sidling up to a woman, and Jisung didn’t miss the annoyed glance he shot his way. He was interrupting whatever it is Jeongin was up to. 

“I need the restroom,” he excused himself, indulging in one last glance at Minho before he disappeared into a sea of drunken bodies.

Jeongin heaved a sigh of relief when Jisung moved away from Minho. But he’d have to work to draw the man’s attention again. Annoying. In his trouser pocket, his hand closed around the pearl necklace. This really was risky. If Minho had him thrown in jail…

He approached the bar, letting the necklace slip out of his hand and fall onto the floor. Minho’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the white string of beads.

Jeongin’s eyes widened, feigning alarm and he bent over to recapture the necklace. When he straightened, he found himself facing Lee Minho. 

Perfect.

“I’ve been watching you the entire night.” Lee Minho tilted his head back a little as he spoke, eyes roaming the length of Jeongin’s body. But to Jeongin’s annoyance, there was not an ounce of lust in his eyes.

“You have?” Jeongin feigned surprise, his jaw slightly lowered, his eyes wide. “Oh I – I was just…”

“Stealing from the other guests?” Minho cocked his head to the side, prying the string of pearls from Jeongin’s grasp. His jaw was clenched tightly, his mouth set in a hard line.

He looked so serious, and perhaps Jeongin was a bit more than the right amount of drunk, because a snort of laughter slipped from between his lips. Fuck. 

Lee Minho straightened, obviously unimpressed. “I catch you stealing, and you find it funny?”

Jeongin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and forced his lips into what he hoped – because he really couldn’t tell at the moment – was a sultry smile. “Are you going to punish me?” He let his voice grow soft and sweet as he sidled up to the dark haired man. He leaned in close, until his lips brushed the older man’s ear. “We should fuck.”

“Should I get you arrested for prostitution as well?”

Jeongin took a hasty step backwards. Prostitution? Arrested? _What_?

Minho raised a hand, beckoning with a finger. Perplexed, Jeongin followed his gaze. One of the hotel’s lanky security guards was fast approaching, weaving through the dancing bodies.

Fuck. This was not how it was supposed to go. He and Minho were supposed to fuck, and then Minho was supposed to see how ‘broken’ and ‘oh-so-terribly in need of guidance’ he was. It was supposed to be his golden ticket into Minho’s life. 

Minho’s lips curved into a satisfied smile now. He turned to the guard. “I found a pickpocket. He needs to be arrested.”

Jeongin gaped, stricken. Seungmin was going to kill him. 

Jisung let the cool water wash over his hands. He’d been in here for some time. He needed to get back out there and face Hwang. 

“You’re Han Jisung.”

Jisung lifted his head, staring at the reflection beside his own. “And you’re Seo Changbin.”

Behind them, people were bustling in and out of cubicles, the taps at the washbasins turning on and off as people flowed in and out. “Seungmin mentioned that you might be a bit difficult,” Changbin said with a grimace.

“Yeah?” Jisung paid him no mind, fidgeting again with his slightly smeared eyeliner. Fuck this shit. “He said the same about you.”

Changbin barked out a laugh at this, sliding his hands into his pockets. His suit jacket moved back an inch, just enough to reveal his holstered semi-automatic. And his face suddenly grew serious. “Mr. Hwang is waiting for you.”

“I’m not a dog,” Jisung snapped. “I don’t come and go whenever he calls.”

Changbin sighed, lowering his head like a bull about to charge an opponent, and stalked towards Jisung, stopping when they were side by side. His eyes bore into Jisung’s. “Let me make one thing clear, Han Jisung. My boss made a deal with Kim Seungmin. And as per our deal, you’ll be moving in with Mr. Hwang. Now, I don’t care what you have to do to make people believe that you’re Mr. Hwang’s latest conquest. If it means you have to go on your knees and bark like a fucking dog in front of all these guests, or fuck him up on that dais, you’re going to do it. Or the deal is off.”

He offered Jisung a clipped smile before turning on his heel and leaving the restroom.

Jisung wanted more than anything to strangle Seungmin right there and then. He probably would have if the man was around. No. Not really. He wouldn’t do that to Seungmin. Hell, he would have been in some prison cell off the coast of Mexico if it weren’t for Seungmin.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before he threw all his dignity out of the window.

Hyunjin was still seated on the couch, engaged in conversation with a middle aged man. He was quite the businessman, according to the information Seungmin dug up on him. He may be an arrogant bastard but he knew how magnify his wealth, and Jisung could allow himself to be a _bit_ impressed by that at least.

As he trudged up the stairs, he pointedly avoided looking at Changbin who had resumed his position somewhere behind the dais. Hyunjin turned to look at him just as he reached the topmost stair. With a lazy smile, the blonde stretched out a hand as if he had been expecting Jisung to come back. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin. Yeah, Jisung really needed to punch him. Just once. Or twice. Or a few times. Make him bleed a little. Or a lot. 

Jisung glanced at the businessman beside Hyunjin; he hadn’t budged. Okay. Jisung would just have to go ahead anyway. 

Hyunjin’s lap was… Well, it was a lap. A billionaire’s lap, but still nothing special. He wound his hands, for comfort, around Hyunjin’s neck and stared at chest, trying not to flinch away as hands roamed beneath his suit jacket, tracing the curve of his back. 

As a distraction, he tried to focus on the conversation between Hyunjin and the other man. Shares. Consignments. Contracts. Nothing worth remembering. 

“I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Hyunjin reached out, shaking the hand of the man who was on his feet now.

And then they were up on the dais alone. Jisung and Hyunjin.

“Enjoying yourself?” Jisung spat, mouth twisted into scowl.

Hyunjin laughed lightly. Ha-ha. How funny. It would be so very easy for Jisung to wrap his hands around Hyunjin’s throat.

“Kiss me.”

It was an order. Jisung took instruction, yes. But to be spoken to like this? Like he was some menial thing? Even in Mexico he wasn’t –

“Now.”

Jisung looked up at him, giving him a deathly glare. “You want a kiss? Fine.”

He carded his fingers through Hyunjin’s hair, gripping so tightly that he was sure he would tear more than a few strands away from his scalp. He crashed their lips together, his teeth taking hold of Hyunjin’s lower lip, biting so hard that he could feel the soft skin give way, and a metallic taste on his tongue. Hyunjin grunted, his fingers digging into Jisung’s hips.

“Fuck,” he murmured when Jisung released his lip. He looked slightly disoriented and Jisung gave him a devilish smirk before going back in. He thrust his tongue between Hyunjin’s lips, vaguely aware that Hyunjin wasn’t even kissing him back. The dumb whore-lover just parted his lips, allowing Jisung to do whatever the fuck he wanted. 

Jisung seethed at his lack of response, putting every ounce of hatred into the kiss. He licked into Hyunjin’s mouth, stopping periodically to gnaw on his lips, leaving them as raw as he could. When he pulled away, he flashed a smirk, which faded as soon as he saw the smug smile on Hyunjin’s face.

“Well, you really enjoyed _that_ ,” Hyunjin licked his swollen lips, touching his fingers to them and grimacing at their puffiness. He clicked his tongue, giving Jisung a familiar patronizing smile, and his voice took on that sickly sweet condescending tone once more, “Just like a puppy, aren’t you? Can’t control that tongue. Can’t control those teeth. What to do with you?”

“Puppy?” Jisung scoffed, offended. “You’re the dumbfuck who had their mouth hanging open, too fucking dumb to even kiss me back.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin sat back, his laughter setting Jisung on edge. “Is the baby angry because he didn’t get kissed? Not to worry. I can give you _everything_ you want when we go home.”

Jisung was doing an incredibly poor job of reeling in his anger. He knew it was foolish because Hyunjin was obviously baiting him. But still, he dug his fingers into Hyunjin’s shirt, leaning in so close that their lips were touching again. “The only thing I want from you when we go _home_ , is for you to leave me the fuck alone. Understand?”

Hyunjin cocked his head to the side. Dumb. And so fucking conceited. The sudden urge to fuck the arrogance out of Hyunjin came as a surprise to him. But no, he would never sink to that level.

“I don’t like you,” Hyunjin said, as if he’d just made up his mind. “I really don’t like you. You’re no fun. And so, so useless. But sure, I guess I’ll tolerate you.” And that suited Jisung just fine. 

Jisung looked over Hyunjin’s shoulder, and even from a few feet away, he could see the displeasure on Changbin’s face. _Interesting_. He flashed Changbin a grin.

Jeongin sat with his head bowed, trying to find a way out of the situation without compromising everything. The head security officer had led Minho and Jeongin to his office. Minho was in discussion with the hotel manager about how to best handle the situation.

This was embarrassing – not the about to get arrested part, but the failing to do the job Seungmin gave him part. 

“The press is going to create chaos if the police show up,” the hotel manager admitted, standing with folded arms. “Awful for the hotel’s publicity.”

“You’re right,” Minho agreed, mirroring the manager’s posture, a permanent scowl etched on his face. “Chan worked so hard to organize this whole thing. I guess… I guess I could drive him down to the station myself. I mean, all the proof we need is with him.”

Jeongin’s eyes lit up at this, but he kept his smile hidden. It wasn’t over yet. He glanced at Minho, who raised an eyebrow at him. “Let’s go, thief.”

They were hit with a cool breeze as they stepped out of the hotel. Minho had his hand locked around Jeongin’s arm, as if he would try to run away. But Jeongin was no coward. He was going to get the job done, one way or the other.

The car attendant brought Minho’s midnight blue Hyundai to the foot of the staircase. Jeongin laughed. The color of the car matched Jisung’s hair.

Minho gave him a strange look, before opening the front passenger door. “Get in.” When Jeongin obliged, he turned the key in the door, locking him in, before jumping into the driver’s side. So many precautions. 

Jeongin waited patiently for Minho to make his way onto the road, before turning to him, his eyes wide, lower lip jutting out into a pout – a much practiced expression. “Aren’t you even curious about why I was doing it?”

Minho glanced at him, giving him a slight shake of the head. “I don’t care about your reason. A crime is a crime.”

Twelve minutes until they reached the police station.

“That’s harsh,” Jeongin batted his eyelashes, but Minho wouldn’t look at him. He kept his eyes on the road, and wow, his side profile was godly. “You’re so pretty. I’d fuck you and still go to jail afterwards if you asked.”

Now Minho shot him a quick yet unreadable glance. “Was that a pickup line or are you just drunk?”

It was both, really. “It’s the truth. What’s your name, pretty boy?” Okay, that one was mostly the alcohol talking.

Minho snorted but murmured, “Lee Minho.”

Jeongin made a small noise of acknowledgment. Getting somewhere. Nine minutes left.

Minho turned to look at him. “What’s yours?”

“Jeongin. Worst thief of the century.”

Minho chuckled blandly. “Agreed.”

Six minutes. Jeongin pressed himself against the door, turning so that he was facing Minho. “Food. I did it for food.” The lie was practiced too. “I dropped out of college. Parents kicked me out.” Minho tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He was listening. Good. “I usually just crash at a friend’s place but everyone gets tired of having someone on their couch 24/7, you know? I nicked the invitation to that party. Rich people. Money. Jewelry. It was an opportunity.” He’d worked hard to come up with that sob story on his way to the party.

Minho’s jaw worked, his brow furrowed. He was conflicted. Three minutes.

Jeongin reached out, placing a hand on Minho’s thigh. He had nice thighs. He could totally fuck them. “I meant what I said. I’d fuck you and still go in there and turn myself in.” They were turning into the car park now. 

Blue lights flashed as police vehicles were dispatched, and others entered the car park. It didn’t take long for Minho to find a parking space.

And that was it. Time up. For someone who was always late, Jeongin was good at estimating time. He looked on either side, noting that they were parked between an empty vehicle and an empty space. 

The lamppost just in front of them lit up Minho who seemed lost in thought, leaning his head against the window, hands still on the wheel. 

“Look,” Jeongin sighed, “can I just suck your dick before I get thrown into jail?”

Minho shook his head.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This couldn’t be it. Would Seungmin help him when – if – he found out he was in jail? Would he care enough to help? Would he abandon the job? Several questions flowed through Jeongin’s mind, which was why he nearly failed to hear Minho’s next words.

“I can suck yours.”

Jeongin stared in surprise, breaking out into a grin. Holy fucking shit. Minho unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the glove compartment, revealing an unopened box – sad. He didn’t get a lot of action, but he obviously had his hopes up if he kept a whole box in his car.

Minho pulled out one of the foil sachets, giving it a long look, as if he was waiting for it to stop him. Finally, he tore the edge open with his teeth.

Jeongin had already unbuttoned his trousers, slipping his dick free from the confines of his boxers. He already had a semi erection. He wondered what did it – the threat of jail or sitting next to someone as pretty as Minho? 

He wrapped his hand around his shaft, a few beads of precum already glistening at the head. Minho was taking the condom out of its packaging at an extremely excruciating pace. “Want me to do that for you?”

“Have a little patience,” Minho snapped, his cheeks flooding with color. “It’s just been a while since…”

Jeongin raised his brows while he tunneled his cock through his fist. As far as he knew, Minho’s last relationship ended eight months ago. Had the guy really been celibate since then? Holy fuck.

He could’ve sworn he saw Minho’s hand tremble. Jeongin sat back, allowing the older man to have free reign with his dick. Minho’s hand just about fit around his shaft. Cute. He slid his fingers along the length, stopping to thumb the tip. And finally – finally – he slipped the condom on. 

Minho let out a shaky breath, looking over his shoulder, perhaps just then remembering that they were in the car park of police station, and he was about suck off someone he’d planned on turning in. Jeongin waited patiently, watching as Minho leaned over the armrest and rolled the condom onto his dick. 

When Minho’s tongue met the tip of his dick, Jeongin sucked in a breath. It was a soft, kitten lick. Teasing. Testing. And then his warm lips wrapped around the head, his tongue flicking back and forth over his slit.

Jeongin threw his head back. “Fuck, that’s… _Oh_!” In one smooth motion, Minho had slid his mouth down the engorged shaft. Jeongin’s fingers instinctively found themselves in Minho’s hair. Minho moaned, each vibration causing each of the tightly wound knots in Jeongin’s core to unravel. 

He sucked hard, his mouth a heated seal and his head bobbing along the shaft. Jeongin swore every time Minho went a little further down, and gave him words of encouragement every time he slowed down. His fingers raked through Minho’s messy hair, and he curled over him, pressing his feet onto the floor of the car so he wouldn’t start erratically fucking Minho’s mouth. He wanted to, but if Minho was doing this after a long time he –

“Oh, fuck!” 

The crown of Jeongin’s cock hit the back of Minho’s throat and he began to bob his head faster. Jeongin couldn’t help bucking his hips, thrilled that Minho didn’t seem to possess a gag reflex. Fuck yeah. Minho was good at this – no, he was amazing. And he told him so.

He supposed sucking dick was a lot like reading; you never forget how to do it even if you don’t do it often. It took only a few more thrusts into Minho’s mouth before he was filling the condom with his release. 

“Well, then,” Jeongin heaved a sigh of contentment when Minho popped off his dick. “Is uh… Is jail still on the cards?”

Minho looked at him. His pupils were blown, his lips pink and swollen, cheeks flushed. He looked heavenly. “Do you need a place to stay?”

Jeongin grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“But you’re sleeping on the couch. And we’re never going to fuck.”

Jeongin wanted to offer a different opinion on that matter, but he nodded. Now was not the time to mention that if Minho let him stick his dick down his throat, sticking it someplace else wasn't a big deal. “Sure.”

“And if you steal anything…” Minho narrowed his eyes.

“Only your heart.”

And Minho smiled. 

_Got him. Hook, line and sinker._

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long 💕💕💕

He wiped down the cutlery carefully before setting everything down on the tray. As usual, he avoided taking part in the banter that went on in the kitchen. He could feel Claudius’s hawk gaze over his shoulder, scrutinizing his every move. He stepped away from the counter, waiting for the kitchen manager to give him his nod of approval. Claudius nodded once, unable to find fault. 

When he’d first started the job, Claudius hadn’t gone five minutes without nitpicking and whining about some small detail that had been missed. He took every error made by the wait staff as a reflection of his own skill. It had been daunting at first, but after a few weeks, not so bad…

The elevator chimed, igniting a dull ache in his temples. He hated the sound. He didn’t know how the other staff tolerated it. It was as if someone had taken a drill to his skull. When the doors slid open, letting him out onto the topmost floor of the hotel, he took a deep breath, slowly exhaling through his nose. He didn’t have to look at the room number to know where to stop. There were only two grand suites on this floor, both reserved for the owners and only one would be occupied that night. He raised his fist, knocking lightly.

Chan opened the door on the third knock, briefly glancing at the trolley before returning his gaze to his phone. “Just leave everything in the living room.”

Seungmin refrained from clicking his tongue at how careless the man was. He pressed his lips together and made sure the door had clicked shut before he proceeded to the living room. Carefully, he unloaded each tray, arranging the dishes on the table in front of the flatscreen. With a yawn, he flopped down onto the couch and selected a pastry from the table.

He heard Chan approaching and in his periphery could see him standing in the doorway. “Is there a problem?” Seungmin asked, biting into the pastry and chewing slowly. Chan’s confusion was palpable, so Seungmin flashed him a grin over his shoulder, letting him take a good look at his face.

“Oh.” Chan stared with a slightly lowered jaw, “You.” Seungmin shrugged and returned his attention to the pastry. Chan seemed to recover from his surprise because he snorted and asked, “Is this all necessary?” 

Seungmin knew what he meant, but still asked, “What?” and patted the empty space on the couch in an invitation to sit.

“This… This whole thing,” Chan said, taking a seat beside him. “I mean, I didn’t know you’d be working here.”

“That’s right,” Seungmin acknowledged, cutting into the chicken pie and placing a piece onto his plate. “You didn’t. I tell you what you need to know. Not more. Not less.” 

“That’s not what we agreed on!” Chan’s voice rose in anger. Seungmin didn’t flinch. “You’re working for me. Don’t you forget that.”

Seungmin fixed him with a hard stare. “What we agreed on, is you not being a nuisance while I get rid of your brother. Now, if you’re changing your mind…”

“No,” Chan said quickly, the furrowed line in his brow relaxed. “I want him gone. The same way he wanted me gone.”

Seungmin fought back a triumphant smile. Everything was on track. He’d taken a huge risk going to Chan shortly after Changbin had approached him with Hyunjin’s offer. It appeared that Chan didn’t take too well to being deceived by his brother. Seungmin had initially thought that Chan would choose to confront Hyunjin about it, what with Chan being known as the nicer, more humble between the two. But apparently Chan had other plans. What those plans were exactly, Seungmin still didn’t know. 

“You know,” Seungmin cleared his throat, “it’s a bit difficult doing all of this for you when you won’t tell me the entire plan.”

Chan’s lips curved into a smirk that wasn’t unattractive at all, Seungmin observed with interest. “I tell you what you need to know. Not more. Not less.” 

Seungmin smiled despite himself, “Fair enough.” He glanced at the man, at his caved in, dimpled cheeks, his solid jawline, and those heart-shaped lips, the lower lip locked between his teeth as he stared down at his phone again. His silver hair that had been brushed back in soft layers was now a mess as if he’d been running his fingers through them again and again, out of frustration maybe. “Make a call to the kitchen,” Seungmin told him. 

“What?” Chan’s head snapped up, brows drawn together. “The kitchen?”

“Tell them that I won’t be working for the rest of the night,” he explained, popping a grape into his mouth. “You’re supposed to be this love-struck fool. We’re doing the whole love at first sight thing, remember?”

A muscle feathered in Chan’s jaw as he weighed Seungmin’s words. “Are you sure Hyunjin won’t suspect anything?”

Seungmin fought the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been so careful to avoid suspicion. For weeks he’d been working in the hotel kitchen, preparing for this. At his behest, Changbin had arranged the job at the hotel for Seungmin, under the misconception that Seungmin was going to work his magic on Chan on this very same night.

It was all done so that Hyunjin would have no problem in believing that Seungmin was still working for him, to lure him into a false sense of security so that when the ground crumbled away from beneath his feet, he wouldn’t even realize it until it was far too late to save himself. “Make the phone call, now. We have a few other things we need to do to alleviate whatever doubts Hyunjin may have.”

When Chan slipped away, Seungmin sent a quick text to Felix, letting him know that all was well. He knew that Felix worried for him, for all of them. As much as they gave Seungmin shit about keeping Felix safe, he knew Felix hated being on the sidelines too. And Seungmin was well aware that Felix was more capable than just being a mediator, that his skills were all going to waste, that Felix could probably pull off this job better than he could. But Seungmin would be damned if he ever put Felix in harm’s way again. 

“What now?” Chan hovered near the couch, looking down at Seungmin with faint trepidation. “You said we had to do a few more things…”

Seungmin nodded once, “I need you to come for me.”

“Come…” Chan blinked once. Twice. Head cocked to the side like a confused puppy. “Come… where?” 

“Come for me,” Seungmin repeated, sliding out the foil packet from his pocket. “I need your cum. Inside this.”

“Oh,” Chan’s eyes widened, his pale cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. He obviously had a problem with Seungmin’s request, because he made no move to take the condom from his outstretched hand.

Seungmin set down the packet beside him, sitting back with one leg crossed over his knee. “Look, I know you’re not a virgin. And we’re both adults here.” In fact, Chan was older than him. “So just do as I say.”

Chan didn’t take too well to Seungmin’s tone because he scoffed and perched on the armrest, looking at him with folded arms. “Maybe I’d just like to know where you’re going with this,” he gestured to the condom with a jerk of his head. 

Seungmin clenched his lower lip between his teeth, willing himself to stay patient. “Your brother – step brother – isn’t stupid. He’s going to look for evidence that I’m doing my job. And we’re going to give him that evidence. We need to make him believe that we fucked tonight.”

“You really think he’ll go that far? That he’s going to investigate all of that?” 

“He’s paying me well,” Seungmin shrugged. “I don’t blame him for being cautious.”

“And I’m paying you more,” Chan said, his lips tilted into that smirk again. 

Seungmin smiled sweetly, “So let’s not waste your money.”

“Right,” Chan snorted and reached for the condom but Seungmin swiped it first.

“You know what?” he sighed, turning over the packet in his hand, “I’ll do this.” He pointed at the bedroom, “And you can go in there and jerk off. Just leave some trace of your cum somewhere on the sheets, alright?” He didn’t want to get into an argument about this. And wasn’t one of his core policies to always do whatever needs to be done to ensure the client’s comfort?

Seungmin began to unbuckle the thin belt around his trousers, a signal that their conversation was over. Luckily, Chan caught on and rapidly turned on his heel, heading towards the bedroom. The door slammed shut with a click and Seungmin unzipped his pants. He rested his head back and shut his eyes, thinking only of him – of Felix who had been beneath Seungmin only a few hours ago, and whom Seungmin had been so, so reluctant to leave, Felix who had inspired Seungmin to change this whole game.  _ Felix _ . 

He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his half-hard cock, tearing open the packet and sliding the condom on. He began to stroke, trying not to think about where he was, about the situation he’d placed himself in. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. Felix would probably be up now, freshly showered, his body arranged elegantly over the couch as he waited for everyone to do their check-ins. Seungmin wet his lips with his tongue at the vision of his golden haired angel, naked save for one of Seungmin’s shirts, his hair damp, skin moist. 

His fingers were clumsy and rough on his thick shaft gripped firmly in his fist. If only he could be buried inside Felix again, Just the mere thought of lowering that body onto his cock made him lift his hips slightly off the couch, his fist shuttling faster up and down his length. But no, Felix wouldn’t ride him like that; he’d do it slowly, excruciatingly slow, torturing Seungmin as best as he could. In response to his thoughts, his fist slowed. He was close, his body on fire, but he’d draw it out the way Felix would.  _ Delayed gratification _ , Felix would say with that teasing smile as he lowered himself down onto Seungmin’s length. “Oh, Felix…Please,” Seungmin murmured, lost in his fantasy, “Ride me…”

Live wires sizzled along his spine and his body stiffened. He shot his load into the condom, mumbling Felix’s name with every shuddering wave of his release. It took him a minute or two to get his breathing under control. And when he did, he finally opened his eyes and realized that he wasn’t alone. 

Mirth danced in Chan’s eyes as he stared at Seungmin over the pie he was shoveling into his mouth. He made no comment as Seungmin removed the condom, knotting the end. 

“How long were you sitting there?”

“Who’s Felix?”

“An old boyfriend,” he lied without missing a beat. “College.” He knew he appeared composed on the surface but at the mention of Felix, Seungmin’s heart had stopped, his blood turning cold. Neither Chan nor Hyunjin was supposed to know about Felix. Seungmin had fucked up big time.

Chan gave him a wry smile that made it difficult for Seungmin to ascertain whether he believed the lie, “I guess you never get over some things, huh?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed, already conjuring some sob story in his head. “I cheated on him, twice. Took him for granted. He got tired of my shit.” He cleared his throat, “Anyway, I’m getting some sleep now. You should too.”

“I probably shouldn’t even bother asking, but—”

“We’ll sleep in the same bed,” Seungmin clarified, much to Chan’s chagrin. “Tomorrow morning you’ll order breakfast. Make sure it’s obvious we slept together.” 

Before Chan could comment on that part of the plan, Seungmin retreated to the bedroom to send a quick text to Felix for his scheduled check in. Just one word:  **Ok** . When he received a reply, dread washed over him. There  _ shouldn’t be _ a reply unless something had gone wrong. The text was short and concise and made Seungmin swear out loud.

**Both missed their check-ins** . 

What the fuck were Jisung and Jeongin up to? They should have checked in ages ago.

Jisung didn’t know how he expected the Hwang family home – mansion – to look. Maybe exactly like this. High ceilings, classic varnished wooden furnishings, drapes in rich reds and purples, polished marble floors, framed paintings of landscapes on the walls. No, it wasn’t the way it looked that bothered Jisung; it was the way it  _ felt _ . 

Cold. Lonely. Dark. Well, fair enough, save for the moonlight streaming in through the windows, there were no other lights and it was nearing midnight, but the vacant atmosphere chilled him to the core. There was nothing personal – no family photos, nothing lying around out of place, nothing to indicate anyone actually lived in the space. But there they were.

Hyunjin walked in a straight line, heading for the main staircase, a broad set of carpeted stairs. Jisung followed a few paces behind, eyes scanning their surroundings. He could feel Changbin breathing down his neck and had to resist the urge to turn around and punch him in the gut. Why did Changbin even want to follow them upstairs? Was he planning on sleeping with them too? Jisung scoffed at the thought, cringing when his huff of breath echoed throughout. 

Upstairs wasn’t very different from the rest of the house, and Hyunjin turned into a hallway. Jisung glanced over his shoulder past Changbin, to see that the hallway stretched out on either side. At the far end of the hallway, the opposite direction in which he was being lead, was another staircase. So much space, so many rooms, and all empty? There were no signs of any maidservants either. Surely, someone like Hwang was probably waited on day and night? Interesting…

At the end of the hallway, Hyunjin pushed open a set of double-doors. His bedroom. The shades were drawn over the windows so not a drop of moonlight entered the room. Jisung squinted in the dark, trying to make out the shapes cast in shadows. A soft beep sounded and the lights flickered on, the sudden contrast temporarily blinding Jisung.

When his eyesight finally recovered, he had to blink a few times to make sure that his eyes weren’t betraying him. There on the bed, covered by a thin silver silk sheet, he could make out the form of a sleeping body. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Hyunjin who had been in the process of removing his tie, paused and looked from Jisung to the bed, starting as if he too was surprised by the person in his bed. “Ah,” he grimaced, his face settling after the surprise had rippled through, “Of course.” He looked at Changbin who hovered nearby and jerked his head towards the bed, “Get rid of… that.”

“And what the fuck is  _ that _ ?” Jisung demanded from the seemingly unconcerned billionaire.

Hyunjin slipped off his jacket and shrugged, “Pre-party leftovers. Honestly it’s been… around five hours. I thought he would’ve been gone by now.” He frowned and glanced at the young man being shaken awake by Changbin. “He  _ should have _ been gone.”

Jisung averted his eyes as the man slipped out of bed, gathering his clothes off the floor. He felt a mixture of secondhand embarrassment and sympathy for him. “So fucking ridiculous,” he murmured with a shake of his head.

Hyunjin aimed a devilish smile at him, “I did say he’s leftovers, didn’t I? So if you want some you’re welcome to—”

“Fuck you,” Jisung spat with enough venom that Changbin halted on his way to the door, his grip on the groggy man’s arm loosening, and his other hand immediately going to the gun holstered at his side. Jisung flashed him a grin, “You offended by that?” he asked Changbin, if only to grate on the man’s nerves. “Your boss is going to hear a lot worse from me. I think he can handle most of it. And whatever he can’t handle,” he raised an eyebrow at Hyunjin, “I think he’ll enjoy. He seems like the type.”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a half smile as he began removing his jewelry, a sign enough for Changbin take his hand off his firearm. He shot Jisung a menacing looking, dragging out the young man with more force than was necessary. When the doors shut behind Changbin, Jisung turned to look at Hyunjin, startled to see the blonde already looking at him.

“You get under Changbin’s skin,” Hyunjin observed, his voice lilted with amusement. “On purpose.”

Jisung gave him a one shouldered shrug, eyes sweeping over the room. Neat and tidy except for the crumpled sheets on the bed. “Where am I sleeping?”

Hyunjin straightened, his fingers stilling over his shirt buttons. “Don’t be so fucking stupid,” he snapped, all traces of humor vanishing. “We have to keep up appearances. If Chan starts to suspect anything, this will all be for nothing. You’re sleeping right here with me.”

Jisung’s brows vanished beneath his bangs. He could see the ruthless businessman now, the one that usurped entire conglomerates, who – according to Jeongin’s research – made other businessmen shake with fear. “Chan isn’t here tonight.” Jisung had heard the hotel manager whispering with Hyunjin. Chan was staying back at the hotel in preparation for an early morning meeting. 

“That’s right,” Hyunjin’s lower lip curled. “I deliberately snuck that into his schedule. Just to get him out of our hair for a little bit so that  _ you _ could adjust to your new sleeping arrangements.” He fixed Jisung with an icy stare that he didn’t appreciate. “So adjust.”

Jisung pursed his lips and looked at the bed, stomach knotting when he recalled the young man sleeping there just moments ago. “At least change the sheets. I don’t want your shit on me.”

Hyunjin snorted, that playful wickedness returning in the form of a sly smile. “I don’t change my own sheets. And my  _ wonderful _ step-brother,” he said in a tone which told Jisung that Chan was anything but wonderful, “told the maidservants that they don’t have to stay up for me. Something about it being unfair to them,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “So just deal with it.”

“Like hell,” Jisung scoffed, striding towards the bed and tossing everything, sheets and pillows, onto the floor. “Tell me where you keep the clean stuff.”

“Do you really think I know?”

“Fuck,” Jisung murmured, glaring at the now shirtless blonde, determined not to let his eyes drift lower than the man’s face. “So I guess you’ll have to do without them then.”

“Whatever,” Hyunjin didn’t look or sound pleased, unbuckling his belt with more force than was needed. 

Jisung looked at the clock on the bedside table and swore again. It was nearly time for his check in with Felix. He slid his hand into the inside of his jacket pocket, groping around for his phone. His phone. His phone wasn’t there. He frantically began to check all his pockets. Nothing! When had he last used it? Back at the hotel, just before he got into the elevator to get onto the rooftop. But he’d put it back into his pocket. He was sure of it. Unless… When he and Hyunjin had put on their little show at the party, things had gotten a bit out of hand and Hyunjin had slipped Jisung’s jacket off and thrown it onto the couch. Maybe then…

“I left my phone at the hotel and I need it. Now.”

“I already sent the driver home,” Hyunjin kicked off his trousers and dropped onto the bare mattress. He stretched his body gracefully, so feline-like that Jisung couldn’t help looking at him properly now. His smooth honeyed skin stretched tight over his lean muscle. His hair was longer than Jisung realized, especially when Hyunjin removed his hair grips, allowing those shoulder length golden waves to cast shadows over his face. His gaze returned to Hyunjin’s face so he wouldn’t be tempted to linger below those stomach muscles. 

“Then send Changbin to fetch it.”

“I don’t think Changbin will be up for a game of fetch with you,” Hyunjin laughed. “He’s the head of my security team. He’s not leaving me.”

“I  _ need _ my phone,” Jisung insisted, panic mixing with frustration and causing him to curl his fingers into fists. If he didn’t check in…

“Well, there’s absolutely no way to get it, unless you go there yourself. And that’s out of the question. Everyone saw me leaving with you. Going back there will raise too many questions. So…” Hyunjin offered him a cruel smile, “I guess you’ll have to do without it then.”

“You live… here?” Jeongin pressed his lips into a thin line as he jumped out of the car, taking his first step onto the property. The first thing he noticed, thanks to the almost blinding porch light, was the unkempt lawn with grass that brushed his ankles and weeds growing along the chain-link fence. And the house… Holy fuck.

Minho lived in a house that seemed to have collapsed inwardly on itself, like an old overused bed with broken springs. The roof sagged and the cedar shingles stuck up in places, kind of like the teeth Jeongin had when he was a kid. The brick walls were streaked by the drippage from the leaky tin gutter than ran along the roof. The shutters were closed but several rungs were missing, giving Jeongin a view of the tattered curtains. 

“If there’s a problem,” Minho said, his voice even as his feet crunched across the lawn, “you’re welcome to check into a hotel.”

Jeongin refrained from telling him that he could if he really wanted to. He was definitely more financially secure than Minho. He knew that the novelist had a pretty shitty career, but even old houses could look charming if their owners actually looked after them, so his lack of finances really wasn’t any excuse. Minho, so well-groomed, obviously didn’t extend the same kind of care towards his home. Jeongin had to wonder why.

The inside of the house didn’t fare any better. Peeling floral wallpaper reminded Jeongin of a house that belonged to a widow whom he had once successfully conned – she’d received a lovely payout because of her late husband – but even with the floral wallpaper, her house had been exquisite. The clothes scattered over Minho’s floors, the dirty dishes and the unopened mail piled on the coffee-table reminded Jeongin of his dorm room during his first year of university. But Minho was a fucking adult, and even Jeongin had the developed the commonsense to clean up his shit. He chewed on his lip, wondering how that billionaire Chan could stand to see his best friend living like this. Did he not give a fuck? Because it definitely seemed that way.

“What?”

“What?” Jeongin blinked at Minho. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face says it all,” Minho muttered, jerking his head towards a tattered couch with stuffing leaking it out of it like foam on a cappuccino, “That’s your bed.”

Jeongin immediately slipped on his game face, all disgust ripped away as he recalled that he had a job to do. A hard fucking job, but it was his job and he would get it done. “I thought I’d be sleeping with you.”

Minho raised his brows, lips parting in surprise. “But I  _ told _ you that you’d be sleeping on the couch.”

Jeongin gave him a sickly sweet smile accompanied by an exaggerated wink, “And  _ I _ told  _ you _ that I planned on stealing your heart, right?” The words were so cheesy and so wrong that he had to fight not to outwardly cringe. “I can’t do that if you lock me out of your bedroom.”

“Trust me,” Minho scoffed, his back to Jeongin, his hand poised to open another door, “if you wanted to win me over, getting into bed with me, or into my pants for that matter, isn’t how you go about doing it. And we both know you weren’t even serious about it.” He turned the doorknob and Jeongin caught a glimpse of what appeared to be the only bedroom in the house. “I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”

And an hour later, curled up on the couch with the pillow propped behind his back and the blanket half covering his body, Jeongin stared intently at Minho’s bedroom door. He’d closed it shortly after throwing – literally throwing – the blanket and pillow at Jeongin and slamming the door shut. But he hadn’t actually heard the lock click, an indication that it was unlocked, and Jeongin was now faced with an internal debate as to how to make some quick progress with this job. Sure, Minho had sucked his dick and given Jeongin a place to sleep for the night, but what then? How long was this going to last? And more importantly, how the fuck was he supposed to keep Minho distracted from what was happening with his best friend at the Hwang family mansion?

Jeongin was fairly adept at seducing people but this one… Minho seemed hot and cold all at once; it was like diving into warm water but as soon as you did, the water froze up around you. Hot and cold. Mixed signals. Confusion. It set Jeongin’s nerves on edge, and not for the first time, he wondered whether he was cut out for this job. Not just  _ this _ job. But working with Seungmin, Jisung and Felix in general. They were all more experienced than him, more proficient at this, more patient too. 

He glanced at his phone screen. Still an hour before his scheduled check in with Felix. Maybe he could make something happen before then that wouldn’t make him feel like a complete failure.

He knocked twice, a gruff, “What?” filtering through the door. Forgoing politeness, Jeongin sauntered into the room, taking in the mess that mirrored the rest of the house. “Fucking hell,” Minho swore, eyes flashing. 

Jeongin wasn’t deterred. He paused to admire the sight of the man dressed in slacks and a baggy white t-shirt, round-framed glasses perched on his nose. He really didn’t mind this aspect of the job. Minho sat on his bed with a notebook propped up on his knees, a laptop at his feet. Working. 

“Get out.”

“I’m just visiting,” Jeongin shrugged, taking the liberty to sit at the edge of his bed, eyes roaming over the large desk that housed stacks of papers and acted as more of a shelf than anything else. His gaze drifted back to the man who glared at him, livid with one fist clenched around a pen, the other clenching a crumpled ball of paper. “You know, now that we’re neighbors and everything.”

“I said get out.”

“You sucked my dick,” Jeongin felt the need to point that out, enjoying the way Minho’s cheeks flooded with color before he added, “so I feel inclined to repay the favor.”

“There’s no need,” Minho muttered, his eyes fixed on a blank page. “Just go.”

“I’m just wondering,” Jeongin cleared his throat, shifting closer to Minho, “why you did it? I mean, when someone doesn’t have sex in a long time, they usually ask to be the one sucked off instead of the one doing the sucking, you get me?”

Minho swallowed hard, and Jeongin had a momentary vision of what it would have been like if he hadn’t been wearing a condom in the car, if Minho had actually swallowed—

“I needed something,” Minho admitted, still unable to look him in the eye. His voice was soft, the expression on his face pained, as if he couldn’t bear to hear the words coming out of his own mouth. “I needed to touch someone. To do something… intimate. I’ve needed to for a while. But if I let you touch me – if I – you…” he stumbled over his words, his tongue swiping over his lower lip, “I wouldn’t have lasted very long.”

“Ah,” Jeongin cocked his head to the side, his fingers tracing the smooth skin over Minho’s bare foot, traveling higher, a light, tentative touch, testing. When Minho didn’t protest, his breath stutteringly leaving his parted lips, Jeongin curled his fingers around Minho’s ankle, and then uncurled them, hand sliding higher yet. “Did you jerk off yet? Did you touch yourself while I was out there?” Minho gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head, the pen slipping from his fingers. Jeongin wondered whether Minho was about to stop him, and stilled his fingers for a moment, continuing when Minho showed no objection. His hand traced a pattern on Minho’s covered thigh, “Do you like this? Do you want this? I can help you out, Minho.”

Jeongin felt the shudder that traveled through Minho’s body as if he was fighting himself, “If I say no?”

Jeongin paused, ready to withdraw his hand. “Then I go back to the couch, no questions asked.” He’d done some pretty bad things to people, but no meant no, and he wouldn’t cross that line, not for any amount of money. He began to pull back his hand when Minho took him by surprise, his fingers catching hold of Jeongin’s wrist.

“Touch me,” Minho whispered, his lust blown eyes meeting Jeongin’s own startled stare now. “Just touch me.” He moved Jeongin’s hand to sit over the bulge in his crotch. And Jeongin would be out of his fucking mind if he didn’t fulfill that request.

An exasperated huff of breath left Minho’s lips when Jeongin moved his hand away from his crotch, fingers tracing the inside of his thigh. Jeongin eased himself onto the bed, his body edging Minho’s thighs apart as he moved to kneel between his legs. Minho reached for his hand again but Jeongin moved it out of reach. “Let’s see how long you can hold out.”

Minho pursed his lips, brows drawing together. He started to get up but Jeongin pressed both hands against his chest, keeping Minho’s back pressed against the headboard. Before Minho could protest, he nudged his erection towards Minho’s, feeling another shudder immediately travel through the man’s body. “Jeongin, I need—”

“To be a little patient,” Jeongin’s lips curved into an admonishing smile that he knew would increase Minho’s level of frustration. And  _ why _ Minho was so sexually frustrated was a matter Jeongin would be prying into soon. Fingers slipped beneath Minho’s shirt, gliding over smooth skin, His thumbs brushed over those pert nubs, forcing Minho to squeeze his eyes shut, a soft shaky moan filling the air between them. Jeongin dropped a hand back to Minho’s crotch and traced the outline of his cock beneath the thin material of his slacks. And he realized with some amusement that he’d failed to realize it before, that Minho wasn’t wearing any underwear. Convenient. 

He rolled the ball of his hand against the base of Minho’s cock, while his fingers played with Minho’s balls, rolling them back and forth. All the while, he kept his eyes on the ripple of emotion playing across Minho’s face, but even if he hadn’t been watching Minho’s face, Jeongin would have known how he was feeling by the sounds leaving his mouth. Every moan reverberated with bliss, and relief, so much relief that Jeongin had begun to think Minho was about to start sobbing. How long had it been since Minho had been touched? How long since he’d fucked anyone? 

Jeongin would have thought it was impossible, but Minho’s already hardened cock thickened and lengthened right against his hand. He welcomed the sensation and continued palming, pumping, stroking and twisting. “Fuck,” Minho exhaled, his hands fisted into the sheets, “I can’t – can’t much longer.”

And granting him reprieve, Jeongin slid his hand past the waistband of his slacks, wrapping his fingers over Minho’s bare cock. As much as it had swelled under Jeongin’s touch, it really wasn’t much, but it was enough. He swiped his thumb across the slit, testing how slick Minho was. Precum glistened, clinging to the pad of his thumb. He began to stroke again, his palm sliding with ease along Minho’s shaft, the foreskin gliding across the head like silk on steel. Minho let out a strangled moan, grinding his teeth together, hips bucking until thick ropes of cum erupted over Jeongin’s fist. 

“So,” Jeongin grinned, wiping his hand against the bottom of his shirt – he wouldn’t be using the shirt again anyway, “am I still sleeping on the couch?”

Minho propped himself up on his elbows, slightly panting, his face flushed, cock hanging out of his pants. The sight tempted Jeongin to ask for another round but he had a feeling that Minho wouldn’t be up for that, that Jeongin had simply presented himself to Minho at a time where Minho had needed that release desperately. Now that the need had dissipated… “Get out,” Minho jerked his head towards the bedroom door.

Jeongin heaved a sigh, looking as sullen as possible before he slipped off the bed. He chose a t-shirt from the sea of discarded clothes on the floor, and headed for the living room. He counted in head –  _ one, two, three _ .

“Wait.” Jeongin turned around, trying not to grin at the resignation in Minho’s voice. “You can sleep on the bed. Just… no touching.”

“No touching,” Jeongin agreed, diving onto the bed beside a flustered looking Minho. He tugged the covers out from beneath the man, wrapping them around himself contentedly. And couldn’t help feeling as though he was forgetting something important.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit icky so please read through the tags again before continuing 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Seungmin would never have called this a career, would never have devoted so much time and energy into honing his craft if he didn’t think that he was good at it. In the last ten years, Seungmin had masterminded at least five hundred of what he called  _ Deceptions _ . Ordinary people would call it theft and fraud. But that was because they didn’t understand the amount of work that he put into crafting each one. 

After working alone for five years, it had been exceptionally difficult to show the others – Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin – that it was an art. But he’d trained them, had put their individual skills to use, had created a team capable of pulling off anything.

Ten years and it would all come to a terrific close with this one job. He had been determined to succeed, and it was for that reason that he found himself breaking his own rules. 

When both Jisung and Jeongin failed to check in with Felix, Seungmin should have followed protocol. He should have abandoned the job, gone straight to Felix and got them out of there without looking back. But he didn’t do that. 

He’d called Felix – another rule broken – and had calmed him down, telling him to wait just a little longer. An hour had passed, then two, and two more hours before Felix texted to say that Jisung had checked in. An hour later, Jeongin had followed suit. 

It was 5am before Seungmin stripped off his clothes and slipped into bed beside Chan. It was all on track again. The foundation for the Deception was in place. Now they would build on it.

_ Clack, clack. Clack, clack, clack. _

Jeongin groaned and slipped his head beneath the pillow, trying to block out the noise that grated on his nerves.

_ Clack, clack— _

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, burying his face into the bed. 

_ Clack, clack, CLACK. _

His groan turned into a high pitched whine this time and he began to face the reality that sleep was a thing of the past. Something soft thumped against back and he let out a surprised yelp. He ducked his head out from under the pillow and a caught a face full of one of the cushions that littered the bed. “What the hell—”

“Can you stop moaning and groaning?” Minho glared at him, his laptop propped on his knees and the cushion poised to strike again. “I’m trying to work.”

“And I’m trying to sleep,” Jeongin involuntarily let out another groan at the bright light streaming through the window. “You woke me up at 4am, remember?” He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “Just four hours ago!”

“You ass!” This time the cushion struck him on his shoulders. “It was  _ your _ phone that was ringing the entire night! How’d you expect me to work?” 

There was absolutely no need for Minho to know how important that phone call was, and that him waking up Jeongin was probably the thing that saved this job from being a complete mess. Still, Jeongin had been six hours late with his check-in. He couldn’t understand why Seungmin hadn’t followed protocol and called off the job. Maybe it was just his lucky day. Maybe the job was just too good to give up. But it was very unlike Seungmin to break a rule that he’d created himself, especially since he’d given Jeongin hell about following protocol. At least Jeongin could take comfort in knowing that Seungmin was experienced; he knew what he was doing.

“Whatever,” Jeongin grimaced. “Some people like to sleep in. Some people like to relax on weekends.” He furrowed his brows, noticing the dark bags beneath Minho’s eyes. “Have you – have you slept  _ at all _ ?”

But Minho ignored his question. “You can always relax somewhere else. The couch is free,” he said with a flourish of his hand. “The backyard is free too. Wouldn’t that be nice? All that fresh air. And even better, I heard that the sidewalk is pretty great too.”

Jeongin frowned, “Are you kicking me out?” Even if he wasn’t being kicked out, he needed a way to make himself a permanent fixture in Minho’s life – well, until the job was done anyway. 

“No,” Minho mumbled, “I would love to. But I have a conscience, you see,” He turned back to his laptop, fingers waltzing over the keyboard again. 

“What are you working on?” Jeongin tried to peek at the screen but Minho shifted away from him.

“A novel.”

“Oh,” Jeongin feigned ignorance, and nodded, “I see. So you’re a writer? Have you ever published anything?”

Minho cleared his throat, a pink flush blooming across his cheeks as he typed. “A trilogy, and a standalone novel.”

Jeongin had already known that. He also knew that the reviews on those books were piss-poor. And here he was writing another book. He actually felt bad for the guy. 

“So what’s this book ab—”

“No one sees my work until it’s complete,” Minho snapped, giving Jeongin a look of warning. “Not even my agent. So don’t get any ideas.”

Jeongin stared at him for a second before a laugh erupted from his chest. “Chill. It’s not that serious.”

“It’s serious to me.”

The laughter died on his lips at the dark expression that crossed Minho’s face. “Got it,” he muttered, wondering whether all writers took their craft so deathly seriously. He was about to ask Minho that very same question when a phone began to buzz. He opened his mouth to apologize, only to realize – with a sigh of relief – that it was Minho’s phone this time.

Minho grabbed his phone off the nightstand with more force than necessary and scowled. Jeongin shifted slightly to get a glimpse of the caller ID, and oh, wasn’t this fucking interesting…

“Who’s Hyunjin?” he asked, feigning ignorance again after Minho declined the call.

Minho’s answering glare could have melted the skin off his bones. “Mind your own business.”

“Hey,” Jeongin arched a brow and playfully nudged Minho, “your dick’s been in my hand and my mouth. You could at least tell me whether you have boyfriend. Or husband,” he added with a grin.

Minho didn’t miss a beat before replying this time, “I don’t have a boyfriend and I definitely do not have a husband.” He rolled his eyes and huffed out an annoyed sigh. “I’m not the kind to wed someone and bed someone else.”

“So who’s Hyunjin then?”

“Hyunjin is no one,” Minho mumbled, typing furiously. “His step brother, Chan, just happens to be my best friend. And Hyunjin calls sometimes when he can’t get a hold of Chan.”

But the flush creeping up Minho’s neck made Jeongin question the credibility of his answer.

“Did you spend the entire night staring at me?”

“I’d rather spend an entire night watching paint dry,” Jisung retorted. He watched as Hyunjin’s fingers traced the purpling bruise on his left shoulder. Hyunjin deserved that one. Self-righteous bastard. Actually, he deserved more than that. “I can give you a bruise to match on the right if you’re up for it.”

Hyunjin barked a laugh, “Sure, you can if  _ you’re _ up for it.” He grinned at the surprise that flitted over Jisung’s face. “Unless you’re too much of a coward to actually follow through with that threat.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Provoke me enough, Hwang, and I’ll do a whole lot more than slam you against the wall.” Because that was how he’d lost it yesterday. Provoked by Hyunjin’s stupidity. 

Hours had passed since Jisung had begged him to retrieve his phone from the hotel. And what did the billionaire do? He’d slipped Jisung’s phone out from under his pillow, dangling it in the air and shouting, “Magic!” Slamming Hyunjin into the wall was the  _ least _ Jisung could have done. He’d shown restraint.

He glanced at his phone now, wondering if there would be any further communication from Felix. He’d checked in way past the scheduled time, and Seungmin had broken protocol by not calling off the job. Jisung would grill him about it whenever he was presented with the opportunity. He hated when Seungmin took matters into his own hands, as if they weren’t a team. 

“Provoke you?” Hyunjin drew his attention again. “You talk a big game, Jisung. But can you play?” A chuckle slipped from his lips. A challenge.

Jisung was saved from their early morning banter by a knock on the door. Hyunjin’s sigh was dramatically drawn out. “Come in, Changbin.” He obviously didn’t appreciate the interruption.

Changbin entered, throwing Jisung a seething look, before handing a rolled up newspaper to his employer. “Page eight, sir.” 

Hyunjin broke out into a wide grin as he opened the newspaper. “Looks like we made it onto page eight,” he winked at Jisung. “They gave us the entire page eight, actually. Oh, nine and ten too.” Jisung pursed his lips, glad that the first phase of the Deception had worked, but annoyed that it had cast him in the public-eye. It was usually Seungmin or Felix who took on this kind of role. “That should convince a few of my business associates that our relationship is legit.”

“A few?” Jisung straightened, his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? It’s all over the newspaper, and whoever was at your party saw me leaving with you. They just have to see me sticking around and it’ll seal the deal, right?”

But Hyunjin shook his head. “The kind of business associates that care to read the newspaper, that care about the image I portray to the media, are the smallest fraction of the people we need to convince. The Hwang Empire makes most of its profits from under-the-table deals. With people that aren’t…” he looked at Changbin, clearly struggling to find the correct words. Although, Jisung could guess. 

“People who aren’t in good standing with the law,” Changbin clarified, a frown etched onto his face. Did he not approve? Interesting.

“We’ll leave in an hour,” Hyunjin said mid-yawn, stretching his arms over his head. “Make the necessary preparations.” But Changbin stood rooted to the spot, his shoulders tensing. Jisung realized what Changbin was staring at, a second before the man’s hand went to the gun in his holster. “Changbin!” Hyunjin half-shouted, half-laughed. He motioned with his fingers for Changbin to lower his gun. 

Changbin didn’t comply. “He hurt you.”

Hyunjin’s tongue traced the outline of his lips as he contemplated an answer. “Only because I wanted him to.” He sounded so sure of the lie that even Jisung seemed inclined to believe him. And in retrospect, he figured that it probably was the truth. 

Changbin looked between them and lowered his gun, not bothering to hide the obvious disgust on his face. He strode from the room without another word.

“Does he always have a stick up his ass?” Jisung glowered at the door as it slammed shut.

Hyunjin smiled and said with complete seriousness, “Not all the time. Sometimes he has other things up his ass.” Jisung choked on his laugh and Hyunjin studied him with a curious expression. “We’d have fun with Changbin, you and I. But I don’t think he likes you very much.”

Jisung snorted, “The feeling is mutual. In fact, I don’t like either of you.”

“Well,” Hyunjin sighed, less dramatic this time, “you’d better act like you do. If these people have just the smallest suspicion, this whole thing is finished.”

Jisung had enough experience to know that Hyunjin had cause to worry. And the dire need to convince Hyunjin’s business associates became apparent the moment the car pulled up at a quaint uptown pizzeria. Because Jisung knew that they weren’t heading into the pizzeria for breakfast. He’d been in Hyunjin’s shoes too many times in the past, had initiated similar business deals, had worked his way up from runt to top dog, and it had all gone downhill from there. Unease swirled in his gut as the horrors from his past whispered from the dark corners of his mind where he’d left them to rot. 

Changbin led the way inside, hands casually swinging at his sides. But Jisung had seen his reflexes. He was… useful. Good. They’d need him if things went south. Things always went south in this kind of business, he reminded himself, but this wasn’t  _ his _ business. He had a job to do, and he was here to do it. Hyunjin’s issues were his own. 

He kept close to Hyunjin, still trying to get accustomed to the feel of their linked hands. That would be the very least of what was expected from them. They would need to put on a show, a better one than they did at that party. 

The pizzeria was almost empty save for the burly gray-haired man behind the counter. It was only 8am. They wouldn’t even be firing up the ovens yet. The place looked and smelled clean, almost sterile. Flashy chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The kind of upmarket place a billionaire would visit if he wanted to eat pizza. 

“Would you like a seat in the VIP area, sir?” the man asked, eyes filled with scrutiny as they honed in on Hyunjin and Jisung’s hands. 

Hyunjin nodded once, and added with some humor, “It’s nice to see you too, Gregor.” Jisung resisted the urge to sigh. It was just like Hyunjin to attempt to piss off the wrong kind of people.

Gregor remained behind but waved them around the counter and through a metal door. Behind the door was a dimly lit passageway. How ominous. He nearly snorted. Hyunjin gave him an amused look, as if he could read his mind. “It leads into a warehouse. People assume it’s a garage for all those trucks that Gregor owns. It kind of is. But it’s very multipurpose. My father made a few changes to the space in the past few years.”

Jisung released his lower lip from between his teeth. “What’s really in there?”

“Scared?”

“Curious.”

Hyunjin hummed, “Nothing much right now. We’re just going to a meeting. The new stock that I procured is currently in transit.”

Changbin looked back at them with a frown, still in a pissy mood. And Jisung had to reel in the urge to stick out his tongue at him. He wouldn’t risk provoking him in such a serious situation. There would be time for that later. 

A set of iron double doors at the end of the passage opened out into a massive warehouse. The walls were reinforced with steel, the windows boarded up. Bars of fluorescent light illuminated the trucks parked off on the side. In one corner was a round table piled high with dog-eared documents. There were also a few rooms built into the warehouse, all with iron doors that Jisung guessed could not be opened from the inside. 

What the fuck went on there?

A few chairs were arranged in a semi-circle around a tattered couch that lined one end of the wall. At least half of the chairs were occupied, and a young man with neon green hair sat on the far end of the couch, a cigarette dangling from his lips. 

Hyunjin pulled Jisung onto the couch, an arm wrapped possessively around his waist. It was an effort not to punch him. And he had to constantly remind himself of the reward at the end of this job. Money. Lots of money. He just had to keep his cool. 

“You brought a pet?” the man beside them, asked with a thick Norwegian accent. The buzz of conversation around them came to a halt.

Jisung’s gaze swept the room. Aside from the men lurking in the shadows, machine guns strapped to their backs, this would have seemed like a casual gathering of friends. Alcohol being passed around freely, a stereo playing old RnB, and not one business suit. Hyunjin had fun picking out an outfit from the suitcase that Changbin had fetched from Jisung’s rented apartment. But Jisung wasn’t all too happy about the tight pair of grey jeans and V-neck tee; there was no room for him to conceal his gun. He’d settled for a knife, but he was dangerously outmatched if things went wrong.

Hyunjin didn’t bat an eyelash and barely glanced at the man. “Do you see a leash, Andreas?” He sounded bored. Unbothered. And if his arm hadn’t tensed around Jisung, he would have been fooled by the act too.

The man, Andreas, said something in Norwegian. Jisung only caught a few words here and there – ‘toy’, ‘caught’, ‘die’. Not the most comforting string of words he could’ve heard in that situation. He wished he’d taken Seungmin’s advice and put more effort into learning a bit of the native language when they arrived in the country five months ago. He was surprised when Hyunjin snapped a reply in what he would only be able to assume was flawless Norwegian. But of course Hyunjin would know the language – he’d moved to the country when he was twelve.

Andreas hissed through his teeth, and fixed Jisung with a threatening glare. Five years ago, Jisung would have gutted him for it, flayed his body and strung him up to dry. But he had to play a role now. So instead of lunging for the man, he gave him an arrogant smile. With his gaze never leaving Andreas’ face, Jisung lifted a hand and threaded his fingers through Hyunjin’s hair. He forced Hyunjin to lower his head and then smashed their lips together. 

Hyunjin moaned into his mouth – and Jisung momentarily wondered how vocal he would be if they fucked – and after what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, but not before dragging the tip of his tongue over Jisung’s lips. Their audience had been watching, some transfixed, some amused, some annoyed. But how many of them were  _ convinced _ ?

Andreas clicked his tongue, “Tell us, Hyunjin, why’d you call this meeting? It’s bad enough that you brought your… thing with you. But did you make us gather just so we can watch you fuck?” Several snickers followed his question. No, not many were convinced. 

Hyunjin’s lips curved into a self-satisfied smile. “Just trying to enjoy my day before it gets ruined.” He cocked his head to the side, eyes sweeping the small semi-circle of men and women. “I received a call yesterday. The shipment from Japan has been delayed. Apparently, a replacement was needed. Does anyone know why?” He was met with confused stares, and nervous murmurs. Even Andreas looked perplexed. “No?” Hyunjin extracted himself from Jisung and rose to his feet. “Let me enlighten you.” 

Changbin had melted out of the shadows where he’d been lingering. Jisung watched as he unlocked the room at the far end of the warehouse. One of the bigger rooms. With Jisung at his side, Hyunjin led the group into the room.

The flick of a light switch illuminated the room – and the bare-chested man tied to a chair. Jisung tried to swallow down the urge to heave his guts out on the floor. A scene so familiar. Too familiar. He placed a hand over his stomach as if he could physically push back his inbound sickness.

The man winced with every breath he took, as if each was more painful than the last. Jisung wondered what it was. A shattered ribcage probably, he guessed from the man’s beaten body. He knew it would make the man feel as if he was slowly suffocating, unable to draw a deep breath in due to the blinding pain. His lungs would burn. His body would beg for oxygen. 

Behind Jisung, someone swore, snapping him out of the daze he’d been falling into. “What the fuck is this?” Andreas asked, starting towards the man. “Hiroto—”

Hyunjin held up a hand, stopping the man in his tracks. He removed the gag from around the captive’s mouth and dropped down to a crouch in front of him. “Do you understand why you’re in this situation right now?” Hiroto tried and failed to stammer a response and opted instead to shake his head. Hyunjin sighed, disappointed, and his voice dripped with death, “You  _ violated _ our agreement. You fucking touched my stock before it reached Japan. Before it was even fucking paid for. You know, I can understand not being able to keep your dick in your pants. But you disfigured the woman to the extent that she had to be replaced. Do you understand how much you cost me?” Jisung could’ve sworn that the man’s confusion was real. Either that or Jisung was so off his game that he was unable to tell truth from lie. “And to still deny that you did it?” Hyunjin spat on his face and rose to his feet.

_ Trafficking _ , Jisung realized,  _ human trafficking _ . That’s what this was all about. 

He glanced at Changbin, “Tell Gregor to close up. He’s going to have a bit of cleaning to do today. Also, fetch our doctor and get the medical room ready.” Changbin, who had remained expressionless the entire time, actually seemed relieved to be dismissed. Hyunjin turned to face the group who had been watching in silence, “If either of you think we should let him go without punishment—”

“Fuck him up,” Andreas muttered, a look of loathing on his face. He was obviously averse to helping Hiroto now. Everyone else seemed to be in agreement. Jisung’s body weighed heavy with dread, and he felt inclined to curl up on the floor and shut out everything and everyone, to shut out whatever was going to unfold.

Hyunjin used a knife to cut the man’s restraints free, and retrieved a plastic bottle from a desk across the room,. His eyes were dark and stern, his face cruel and forbidding, but somehow still handsome, Jisung observed. He slowly uncapped the bottle until the smell of gasoline charged through the air. Hiroto began to struggle against his bonds but Hyunjin scoffed and turned to douse the wood in the fireplace. He held out a hand to Andreas who suddenly seemed to be in a hurry to put out his cigarette. “Can I borrow that?” Hyunjin flicked the cigarette over the wood and the fire came to life with a roar, cracking and blazing, casting shadows over Hiroto’s terrified face. 

Hyunjin picked up a wrought iron poker with an ivory handle and began stoking the fire. And when he left the iron in the fire, Jisung felt bile hit the back of his throat. He swallowed it back down and his throat began to burn. “I really hate doing this,” Hyunjin sighed. “But we have to make an example out of you. Show people what happens when they break my rules.” There were murmurs of agreement. “I’ll give you a choice. You hold this,” he picked up the poker, “for ninety seconds and we’re done. You drop it, and I’ll take one of your hands.” 

And Hiroto, bless him, actually held out his hands. Jisung took a deep breath before the smell of burning flesh filled the room. A few people had chosen to leave at that point, but Andreas and two others remained behind. The skin on the man’s palms melted quickly before the intense heat, the muscle and flesh of his hands cooking. The shock of the pain had probably rendered the man unable to speak; he’d gritted his teeth so hard that Jisung could’ve sworn he heard something break in his mouth. Jisung knew that after a minute the nerves would be so badly damaged – permanently damaged, probably – that they would no longer conduct pain signals, that he would go numb. He would lose his sense of touch completely. 

Something seemed to snap in the man in the last twenty seconds, because his hands began to shake, the poker falling away. His skin went with it, stretching away from the bone like chewing gum stretched too thin. The poker crashed to the ground, skin wrapped around it like a leather coating. And despite his revulsion, Jisung couldn’t look away.

Hyunjin clicked his tongue. “Pity. If you’d lasted a few more seconds…” He hauled the man out of the chair, placing him into another at the head of the table. And there, lying in wait with its sharp jagged edge, was a handsaw. Now Jisung had to look away. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, trying to hide their violent tremble. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hyunjin place two hands on the man’s shoulders, the gesture almost one of comfort. “Remember, Hiroto,” he sighed, “it’s just business. I’ll leave you to it then.” Jisung breathed a silent sigh of relief that he wouldn’t have to stand by and watch the man carve himself apart.

The door shut behind them, and when Jisung took a look around the warehouse he wasn’t at all surprised that everyone had left. Except Andreas, of course. He regarded Jisung with a curious stare, before nodding as if in response to a question he’d asked himself. Andreas was halfway across to the exit when Hyunjin pressed his body into Jisung’s, bringing their lips together again for a kiss that demanded aggressiveness, hot, wet and vicious. Jisung clenched his fingers in the fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt, not knowing what to make of the impulsivity. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Andreas said, as he swung the doors open, “this is my uncle’s warehouse. Take your boyfriend somewhere else, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin pulled back after the man left, an arm casually draped over Jisung’s shoulders. “I think our work here is done,” he whispered.

Jisung shoved away from him, increasingly bothered by the pained sobs filtering through to them. “Can we leave?” He started towards the doors, only stopping when he realized that Hyunjin hadn’t moved. The man stood gawking at him, confusion flickering over his face. 

“What happened back there…” Hyunjin gestured to the room they’d vacated. He hesitated and then asked, “Did it bother you?”

Jisung balled his hands into fists and strode towards the asshole. “Are you fucking crazy?” he tried to keep his voice down. “Of course it fucking bothered me.”

“But Seungmin said—”

“You spoke to Seungmin?” Jisung raised his brows.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Of course not. That’s Changbin’s job. Anyway, he told Changbin you’d be fine with all this. He said you could handle it.”

Jisung fisted Hyunjin’s collar, pulling him closer, the sly smile on his face only making his anger burn hotter. “Fuck you and fuck Seungmin. I suggest you use your mouth for something other than sucking your whores off, and ask me yourself whether I can handle your shit. You understand?”

Hyunjin took a moment before huffing out a laugh. “I just wanted—”

“Do you fucking understand?” Jisung spoke slowly, making sure his wrath was conveyed with every word. When Hyunjin nodded, Jisung released his grip on the man’s collar. He shook his head and looked away, “I’m going to fucking kill Seungmin,” he muttered.

He set off towards the doors, Hyunjin keeping pace with him. “You probably won’t have to see something like that happen again,” Hyunjin said. His reassuring tone made Jisung feel embarrassed at how severely he’d been affected. Some wounds never healed. “Like I said back there, it’s just business. I take loyalty seriously and breaches of trust need to be punished. But it’s really not something I enjoy doing. Actually, it bothers me just as much as it bothers you—”

“Stop talking,” Jisung said through gritted teeth, feeling more embarrassed by the second. “I’m not a fucking priest at a confessional.” He could feel Hyunjin’s curious gaze on him as he pushed the doors open.

They were in the narrow passageway when Hyunjin’s phone began buzzing. “Probably Changb – oh.” He declined the call and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans, but Jisung had glimpsed the screen and he fixed Hyunjin with a questioning stare.

“Lee Minho is your step brother’s best friend, right?” he asked carefully. 

Hyunjin jerked a shoulder and nonchalantly said, “He is.”

Jisung poked his tongue in his cheek. He wondered how Jeongin was getting along with the man. “I didn’t realize he was a friend of yours too.” 

Hyunjin studied the gold links of his bracelet as they walked. “He’s not. He was probably just calling to find out where Chan is. Nothing to do with me, really.”

The lie was obvious, and Jisung suddenly felt uneasy. When Hyunjin hired them for the job they’d requested full disclosure of every tiny detail.

And secrets were a hazard. It was the first rule Seungmin had taught them.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞  
> Twitter   
> CuriousCat


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